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DR.  SUMMERS 


A  LIFE-STUDY. 


By  O.  p.  FITZGERALD,  D.D., 

Editor  Christian  Advocate. 


NASHVILLE,  TENN.: 

SOVTHERN   METHODIST   PUBLISHING   HOUSE. 

1885. 


^ 


Entered,  According  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  ycnr  18M, 

Br  TUB  Book  Acexts  of  tub  Metiiopist  Episcopal  CiiCBcn,  Soi-rir, 

in  the  OfRce  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


PRELIMINARY. 

This  book  lias  been  written  at  the  request  of  the  family 
of  Dr.  Summers  and  others  whose  opinions  and  wishes  were 
entitled  to  my  respect.  My  aim  has  been  to  picture  the 
man  as  he  was.  The  life  of  my  departed  friend  had  its  sad 
side.  Is  not  this  true  of  most  lives  that  have  been  notably 
noble  and  fruitful? 

The  supi-eme  motive  in  writing  the  book  was  to  glorify 
God,  and  not  a  man;  yet  it  has  been  a  labor  of  love.  It  is 
sent  forth  with  the  earnest  prayer  that  it  may  do  some 
good.  O.  P.  F. 

(3) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PlOE 

A  Boy-BABT  18  BOEN 9 

Early  Days 11 

The  Calvinistic  Aunt 13 

Heredity  and  Atavism 15 

CHAPTER  II. 

Pprbeck 16 

His  Environment 17 

A  Caged  Bird 19 

CHAPTER  III. 

Fbom  Purbeck  to  New  York.  21 

Leaving  Home 23 

Arrives  in  New  York 25 

CHAPTER  IV. 

From  Death  Unto  Life 27 

He  Sees  Light 29 

Joins  the  Methodists 31 

Born  Again 33 

CHAPTER  V. 

Preaches  His  First  Sermon..  35 

Has  He  a  Call? 37 

At  Quarterly  Conference  ...  39 

His  FirRt  Sermon 41 


CHAPTER  VI. 

p-vai 

His  First  Circuit 43 

"  Breaking  In" 45 

On  the  Road 47 

A  Methodist  Matron 49 

A  Lesson  Learned 51 

Another  Rebuflf. 53 

CHAPTER  VII. 

First  Circuit  (Continued)....  54 

Rousing  the  Virginians 55 

On  His  Circuit 57 

His  Spectacles 59 

"Joe  Benson's  Rule" Gl 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

First  Circuit  (Continued)....  03 

Nerval  Wilson 05 

Picture  by  Bishop  Keener.  69 

A  Peculiar  Friendship 71 

The  "  Now"  Preachers 73 

CHAPTER  IX. 

At  Conference 74 

Conference  at  Baltimore...  75 

The  Men  of  That  Day 77 

Alfred  Griffith 79 

Othor  Prenehors SI 

(5) 


COSTESTS. 


rta* 

The  Younger  Men 83 

Examination  of  Character    8i 
Rigid  Requirements 87 


CHAPTER  X. 

Rai.timore  and  VVkst  River 

—A  Missio.NAcy  Call 89 

West  River 01 

A  Wild  Leap f^ 

Tlie  Texas  Fever 9o 

A  Providential  Turn 97 

Oeorge  C.  Cookman 99 

The  Christian  Army 101 

Armnging  the  Forces 103 

The  Diabolical  Spy 105 

The  Ocean's  Secret 107 

CHAPTER  XI. 

He  Goes  to  Texas 109 

Alexander,  Fisher,  McKen- 

Eie Ill 

First  Brick  Church 113 

Coming  Back 115 

Early-day  Texas 117 

Honston  as  It  Was 119 

On  the  Road 121 

A  Night  Ride 123 

A  Pioneer  Woman 123 

A  Morning's  Ride 127 

A  Texas  Mother 120 

Old  Pilot 131 

Old  Friends 133 

A  Bishop  on  a  Log 135 

Not  Coffeelcss 137 


A  Touch  of  Seniiment 139 

In  the  Swamp 141 

To  Johnson's 143 

CHAPTER  XII. 

To  Alabama— Mabrici) 145 

Sent  to  Mobile 147 

Two  Friends) 140 

k  Hymnologist 151 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Life  in  Charleston 153 

A  True  Friend 155 

The  Old  Days 157 

Communion  of  Souls 159 

The  Dying  Bishop ici 

Another  Backward  Glance.  1(53 
Dr.  Smith's  Reminiscences  IM 

Hymn-book  Making 1C7 

Among  Sinners 1G9 

Christ-likeness 171 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

To  Greensboro,  Alabama 172 

Edward  Wadsworth 173 

With  the  Alabnmians 173 

Jefferson  Hamilton -  177 

Neely  and  Dorman 179 

Living  Alatmmians 181 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Goes  TO  Nashville 183 

A  Working  Prodisy 185 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

rAGE 

Summers  as  a  Student  anb 

A  Scholar 187 

His  Accuracy 189 

His  Readinpss 191 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

His  Catholicity 193 

Dr.  McNeilly's  Etching 197 

Christian  Fellowship 199 

Practical  Irenics 201 

A  Life-like  Picture 203 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
De.  Summers  as  an  Editou  ..  201 

Answering  Questions 205 

"If  he  were  here!  " 207 

A  Vigilant  Sentinel 209 

Fidelity  Before  Friendship  211 
More   Useful    than   Popu- 
lar   213 

On  the  Kesurrection 215 

The  Presumptions 217 

The  Proofs 219 

The  Pentecostal  Verifica- 
tion   223 

"Nothing  to  Edit" 225 

Clasping  Hands 227 

The  Coming  Day 229 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Dh.  Summers  as  a  Teacher  ...  230 

At  Vanderbilt 231 

Before  His  Class 233 

Vanderbilt  Colleagues 235 


CHAPTER  XX. 

PACSB 

Db.  Summers  as  a  Pbkacheb..  237 

The  .Assumed  Heretic 2.33 

His  Paramount  .Aim 241 

A  Notable  Sermon 243 

Nashville  Preacher." 245 

Summary  Estimate 247 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Peksdxal,  asb  Slightly  Sub- 
jective   24S 

Edward  H.  Myers 249 

James  A.  Duncan 251 

Twelve  Years  Later 253 

The  Man  as  He  Was 255 

A  Personal  Card 257 

A  Burning  Light 259^ 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Again  in  Tuscaloosa 201 

In  the  Pastorate  Again 2C3 

His  Working  Methods 205 

Contrasted,  but  Matched...  207 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Inner  Glimpses  or  the  Man..  209 

The  Diary 271 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Weaky  and  Homesick 305 

Longing  for  Heaven 307 

On  Jesus 309 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

His  Sorrows — The  Mystery..  310 

The  Mvstprv .311 


8 


COXTENTS. 


PASS 

The  Little  Singer.- 313 

The  Bitterest  Cup 315 

The  Cultniantion  of  Grace.  317 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Tbb  GoAt  Reached 318 

Working  While  it  Was  Day  319 
His  Preparatory  Pentecost  321 
"  I^t  Us  Talk  of  Heaven  "  323 

The  Last  Prayer 325 

All  ia  Over 327 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

PASS 

Th«  Mam 328 

His  Memory 329 

A  Safe  Guide > 331 

A  Holy  Man 333 

His  Burial 336 

THE  ASCENSION  OF  OUR 

LORD. 
PiscovBSB    BT    Bishop  J.  C 

KeBNBR,     AT    THB     FcifESAL 

or  Dk.  T.  O.  Sommbbs 337 


DR.  SUMMERS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  BOY-BABY  IS  BORN. 

IN  a  cottage  on  the  islet  of  Purbeck,  Dorset, 
England,  on  the  11th  day  of  October,  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1812,  a  round-headed  baby- 
boy  with  bluish-gray  or  grayish-bine  eyes  first 
saw  the  light  of  this  world.  He  was  the  child 
of  James  and  Sarah  Summers,  and  they  named 
him  Thomas  Osmond,  after  his  great-grand- 
father. He  was  not  notably  large  or  small,  but 
he  was  not  a  commonplace  baby.  There  never 
was  a  commonplace  baby  born  into  a  family 
where  there  was  mother-love.  That  love  is 
the  idealizer  and  transfigurer  that  on  natal 
days  fills  cottage  and  palace  alike  with  exult- 
ant joy,  and  from  the  first  mother  to  the  last 
awakens  the  glad  song  and  shout,  "I  have 
gotten  a  man  from  the  Lord! "  Now  and  then  a 
Benoni  or  a  Jabez  is  born  amid  conditions  that 
tune  the  song  to  the  minor  key;  but  even  in 


10  Db.  Svmmeks. 


such  cases  deathless  love  nnd  quenchless  hope 
throw  across  the  dark  cloud  of  present  gloom 
the  bow  of  promise  bright  with  prismatic 
glories. 

This  was  a  notable  baby,  in  fact.  His  vital- 
ity was  marvelous — he  was  a  live  baby  all  over 
and  all  through.  The  stock  from  which  he 
sprung  -was  strong  and  tenacious,  the  maternal 
grandfather  already  mentioned  having  lived 
out  his  threescore  and  ten,  and  then  living  on 
forty-six  years  longer,  closing  his  eyes  on  this 
world  after  one  hundred  and  sixteen  winters 
had  come  and  gone. 

This  was  a  notable  because  it  was  a  noticing 
baby.  Those  round,  eager,  inquiring  eyes,  of 
the  true  Socratic  cast — lobster  eyes,  the  Greeks 
called  them — threw  wondering  and  searching 
glances  around  on  every  side;  and  it  was  plain 
to  all  that  he  was  wide-awake  when  awake  at 
all.  We  are  not  told  whether  he  was  wakeful 
and  fretful,  or  sleepful  and  amiable,  but  wo 
incline  to  the  belief  that  he  Avas  a  noisy  and 
imperious  little  tyrant.  That  he  was  noisy, 
we  may  be  very  sure;  his  lungs  were  of  great 


Early  Days.  11 

power,  and  were  never  known  to  fail.  When 
matters  did  not  go  to  suit  liim,  he  was  heard 
from  day  and  night.  He  lived  and  throve,  a 
healthy  little  animal,  his  life  made  up  of  eat- 
ing, sleeping,  and  exercising  his  limbs  and 
lungs. 

These  earliest  days  are  without  special  rec- 
ord now — the  voices  that  might  have  told  of 
them  are  all  mute,  the  hands  that  might  have 
penned  down  their  happenings  were  long  ago 
folded  across  pulseless  breasts.  What  he  said 
and  did  at  the  start  was  what  a  million  of 
other  English  boys  might  have  said  and  done — 
except  that  now  and  then  a  spark  of  fire  was 
struck  that  would  have  shoAvn  to  him  who  had 
insight  the  sort  of  metal  he  was  made  of.  We 
may  be  sure  that  the  loving  insight  of  the  af- 
fectionate aunt  saw  in  the  boy  more  than  was 
visible  to  other  eyes. 

The  Summers  family  were  "Independents" 
in  religion — a  fact  not  without  significance. 
There  was  in  them  a  vein  of  self-assertion 
that,  as  it  was  held  in  check  or  given  rein, 
would  make  of  them  valiant  confessors  and 


12  Dr.  Summers. 


fierce  fanatics,  or  rash  and  scornful  despisera 
of  the  settled  order  of  things. 

James  and  Sarah  Summers  did  not  live  to 
rear  their  boy.  The  father  died  when  the 
child  was  a  year  old,  and  the  mother  when  he 
was  six.  His  maternal  grandmother,  Mrs. 
Cull,  took  charge  of  him  with  his  brother  and 
sister,  both  older  than  himself.  She  was  a 
very  devout  member  of  the  Independent 
Church  She  was  wont  to  take  him  into  her 
chamber  where  she  taught  him  to  pray,  and 
where  she  would  pour  out  her  fervent  prayers 
for  him.  She  died  when  he  was  seven  years 
old,  but  left  her  mark  on  him.  The  prayers  in 
that  private  chamber  were  not  lost 

After  the  grandmother's  death,  and  that  of 
the  sister,  which  happened  about  the  same 
time,  the  two  brothers  were  taken  in  charge  to 
be  educated  by  a  maternal  great-aunt.  Three 
guardians  were  appointed  for  the  boys — all 
deacons  of  the  Independent  Church.  It  may 
be  supposed  that  the  boys  were  brought  up 
rigid  dissenters.  In  fact  they  were  partly 
educated  by  the  pastors  of  their  Church,  and 


The  Calvinistic  Aunt.  13 

Thomas  was  designed  for  the  ministry  if  he 
should  give  suitable  evidences  of  piety,  and 
no  providence  should  contravene.  He  was 
obliged  to  go  to  "  meeting  "  three  times  every 
Sunday,  and  twice  to  Sunday-school — not  to 
mention  the  week-night  lecture  and  prayer- 
meeting.  On  holidays,  such  as  Christmas  and 
Good  Friday,  he  was  allowed  to  go  to  "  church." 
He  was  required  to  render  an  account  of  every 
service — the  text,  the  hymns,  etc. — and  on  one 
occasion  when  he  had  stolen  off  to  hear  the 
Wesleyan  preacher,  his  loving  but  watchful 
aunt  found  out  that  he  had  not  attended  his 
own  place  of  worship,  and  was  much  displeased 
at  the  deception  he  had  practiced. 

Of  this  Calvinistic  aunt  he  always  spoko 
with  reverent  affection.  She  stands  in  the 
background  of  this  biography  a  serene  and 
stately  figure,  the  lines  of  her  face  showing 
the  marks  of  a  sad  and  lonely  life,  but  with 
firmly  compressed  lips  indicating  the  strength 
of  her  will,  and  a  light  in  her  eye  kindled  by 
a  faith  that  burned  brightly  in  the  inner 
depths  of  a  soul  that  had  found  peace  in  the 


14  Dli.  SUMMEUS. 


Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Her  image,  though  but 
dimly  outlined  and  faintly  colored,  will  not 
vanish  from  the  earth  while  kindly  eyes  shall 
read  these  pages.  Her  true  and  loving  heart 
had  wound  its  tendrils  so  closely  around  the 
orphan  boy  that  only  death  could  unclasp 
them.  It  was  her  name  that  was  given  to  the 
dear  little  girl  that  was  born  in  Alabama  long 
years  afterward,  and  whose  early  flight  to  the 
skies  left  so  much  sorrow  behind. 

Of  James  and  Sarah  Summers  our  sketch 
must  be  brief.  They  lived  when  the  family 
fortunes — which  had,  as  is  usual  in  real  life, 
been  variable,  now  rising,  now  falling — had 
touched  a  point  of  depression.  They  struggled 
with  adverse  circumstances,  making  no  noise 
in  the  world,  fighting  their  battle  under  the 
eye  of  God,  and  sinking  into  their  graves  al- 
most as  quietly  as  the  frosted  leaves  of  autumn 
fall  to  the  earth. 

The  law  of  heredity  cannot  be  traced  directly 
where  the  record  is  so  scant,  but  we  have  the 
conviction  that  the  potencies  that  were  devel- 
oi>ed   in   the  son   had   their   springs  in  the 


Heredity  and  Atavism.  15 

mother  whose  light  went  out  so  soon.  No  law 
is  more  certain  than  this,  but  modified  as  it  is 
in  its  operation  by  free-will,  by  divine  grace, 
and  by  the  skips  and  leaps  from  one  gener- 
ation to  another— atavism  they  name  it — we 
must  take  every  human  being  as  we  find  him 
and  leave  final  judgment  to  God,  who  requires 
much  or  little  as  much  or  little  was  given  to 
eacli  at  the  start  in  life.  And  the  truth  re- 
mains, shining  like  a  sun  in  the  sky,  that  the 
least  favored  of  us,  if  we  will  trust  and  try, 
will  come  out  all  right  in  the  end.  Evolution 
under  God  is  upward  when  the  aspiration  and 
effort  point  that  way.  Here  is  light  for  every 
man's  path,  hope  for  every  human  heart.  AVe 
are  all  the  children  of  one  Father  in  heaven. 
Behind  all  his  laws,  behind  all  the  complexi- 
ties of  a  providential  scheme  too  vast  for  our 
comprehension,  behind  all  the  mystery  and 
tragedy  of  life  as  we  see  it,  beats  for  each  one 
of  us  His  loving  heart. 


CHAPTER  II. 

PURBECK. 

THE  restless,  strong-lunged  boy  looked 
around  hira  to  see  what  sort  of  a  world 
it  was  into  which  he  had  come. 

The  isle  of  Purbeck  stretches  some  twenty 
miles  in  length  from  north-east  to  south-west, 
and  about  ten  miles  in  width.  It  is  traversed 
by  two  mountain  ranges.  On  a  spur  of  one  of 
these  are  the  ruins  of  Corfe  Castle,  anciently 
the  residence  of  the  Queen-mother  Elfrida, 
by  whose  instigation  Edward  the  Martyr  was 
stabbed  at  the  castle  gate.  It  was  bravely 
defended  against  the  Parliament  forces  of  the 
Revolution  by  the  widow  of  Chief -justice 
Bankes,  to  whose  descendants  it  still  belongs. 
The  islet,  or  peninsula,  terminates  in  bold  cliffs 
and  promontories  on  the  British  Channel  im- 
mediately opposite  the  isle  of  Wight. 

Purbeck  was  to  his  boy-mind  the  center  of 
the  world.  Its  fresh  sea  breezes  braced  his 
body;  its  brown,  rugged  headlands;  its  snug 
(16) 


His  Envjronmkst.  17 

little  bays  where  the  clear  waters  slept  when 
the  weather  was  calm,  and  fretted  and  foamed 
when  it  was  stormy;  its  verdant  meadows  be- 
tween the  hills;  the  outlying  heath  mingling 
in  the  far  distance  with  the  horizon,  giving  the 
sense  of  vastness  and  mystery — all  these  in- 
sinuated their  subtle  influences  into  his  soul. 
Though  it  cannot  be  measured,  this  natural 
environment  had  no  small  influence  in  giving 
tone  to  his  mind  and  body.  Here  were  the 
conditions  of  a  happy  boyhood — mountains  to 
climb,  water  in  which  to  fish  and  bathe,  green 
fields,  and  heather  wild  and  wide.  Though 
the  shadow  of  orphanage  had  fallen  upon  him 
at  a  tender  age,  the  buoyancy  of  his  tempera- 
ment makes  it  certain  that  he  did  not  mope  or 
whine,  and  that  his  busy  feet  carried  him 
everywhere  within  reach,  and  his  not  too  gen- 
tle voice  was  often  heard  in  boyish  shout  and 
laughter  among  the  Purbeck  hills  and  lanes. 

He  was  fond  of  books,  and  read  all  that 
came  wittin  his  reach.  From  them  he  learned 
that  beyond  the  islet  where  he  lived  were 
great   continents,  wide   oceans,    and   islands 


18  Dr.  SuMMEiis. 


dotting  many  seas.  The  Bible  was  the  one 
book  he  was  not  permitted  to  neglect.  Its 
marvels  and  mysteries  excited  his  Avonder  and 
awe,  and  with  the  interpretations  put  upon  its 
text  by  the  stem  sectarians  about  him,  he  saw 
more  to  appal  than  to  attract  in  the  mighty 
Being  whose  voice  thundered  from  the  mount 
that  burned  with  fire  and  was  echoed  in  the 
woes  announced  by  the  prophets.  But  at  this 
time  he  was  more  concerned  about  the  world 
in  which  he  lived  than  about  the  invisible  God 
and  the  world  to  come.  Standing  on  the  edge 
of  one  of  the  beetling  crags  that  marked  the 
line  of  the  coast,  he  gazed  across  the  water 
toward  mighty  London,  and  felt  the  stirrings 
of  the  adventurous  spirit  that  belongs  to  the 
season  of  youth  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  blood. 
His  environment,  physical  and  moral,  was 
such  as  to  make  him  chafe  under  its  limita- 
tions and  long  for  freedom  and  scope.  It  was 
curiosity  rather  than  contumacy  that  took  him 
beyond  the  circle  of  hereditary  religious  asso- 
ciation. He  was  picking  up  knowledge  wher- 
ever it  came  in  his  path,  and  storing  it  away 


A  Caged  Bird.  19 

in  a  memory  that  grasped  and  held  all  that 
touched  it.  He  was,  perhaps,  a  little  too  in- 
dependent for  those  iron-sided  Independents 
who  ruled  over  him.  They  had  set  him  the  ex- 
ample of  thinking  as  they  pleased  and  going 
where  they  pleased.  He  wanted  to  see  and 
know  for  himself  what  was  going  on  in  the 
world.  At  the  Independent  church  he  was 
taught  the  catechism  and  how  to  behave  in 
the  house  of  God,  but  not  to  love  its  super- 
solemn  services.  The  all-alive,  electrically 
charged  boy  felt  like  a  caged  bird  under  the 
"long  prayer"  and  (as  it  seemed  to  him)  end- 
less sermon.  So  we  are  not  surprised  that  he 
slipped  off  now  and  then  to  the  Methodist 
chapel,  or  that  he  was  sometimes  found  sit- 
ting in  a  high-backed  pew  in  the  parish  church, 
where  if  the  service  was  not  less  tedious  the 
hearer  was  at  least  more  at  ease. 

This  was  Purbeck,  and  this  was  his  boyhood 
life  as  we  get  glimpses  of  it.  The  reader  may 
get  a  more  vivid  notion  of  the  islet  by  this 
description  of  it  which  we  met  with  in  a  Lon- 
don magazine,  the  production  of  a  local  poet. 


20  Br.  Summers. 


The  poetry  is  not  bad,  and  the  descriptive 
touches  paint  a  real  picture: 

ISLE  OF  PURBECK. 
Great  landmarks  liere  are  wound  through  little  space 

Half  circled  by  the  sea, 

Mid  such  tranquillity 
As  most  in  scenes  most  pastoral  doth  hold  its  place. 

A  double  range  of  hills,  as  with  a  fence 

Of  nature's  own  device, 

"With  one  sole  orifice 
Shuts  in  the  sloping  valley's  half  circumference. 

Pastures  are  large  and  sloping  down  the  vale 

In  undulations  green, 

With  winding  lanes  between, 
And  high  upon  the  cliff  that  fronts  the  southern  gale. 

Wild  heath,  outstretching  far  behind  the  lines 

Of  semi-circling  hills, 

A  wide  expanse  fulfills, 
And  with  the  deep  blue  distance  distantly  combines. 

Small  bays  between  brown  cliffs,  bays  blue  and  clear, 

Homesteads  in  meadows  green. 

With  many  gates  between. 
And  hanging  woods  in  sliadc,  their  varied  forms  uprear. 

Within  the  arc  of  hills  a  soft  repose, 

As  if  from  by-gone  days. 

Enslaves  the  sympathies. 
And  unto  local  love  affection  doth  dispose. 


CHAPTER  III. 

FROM   PURBECK  TO  NEW  YORK. 

SAEAH  HAVILLAND,  the  venerated 
aunt,  died  at  Corfe  Castle,  July  18,  1828, 
at  the  age  of  eighty-six.  She  showed  her  at- 
tachment to  her  favorite  boy  by  leaving  him 
what  remained  of  her  patrimony,  which  in  for- 
mer years  had  been  wasted  away,  it  is  believed, 
by  her  husband,  who  w^as  an  officer  of  some 
sort  in  the  excise  department,  and,  like  most 
of  such  officers  of  government  at  that  time, 
was  far  from  being  exemplary  in  his  morals. 

Thomas  was  now  in  his  sixteenth  year  — 
quick  and  energetic  in  his  movements,  with  a 
peculiarly  inquisitive  mind,  and  an  insatiable 
reader.  He  began  to  question  the  triith  of  some 
of  the  dogmas  in  which  he  had  been  trained. 
He  broke  off  from  the  Independents,  but  the 
restraints  of  religion  were  still  upon  him.  He 
frequently  attended  the  services  of  the  Estab- 
lishment, especially  on  Sunday  afternoons,  and 
at  the  Wesleyan  chapel — in  which  he  rented  a 

(21) 


22  Dr.  Summers. 


"sitting" — morning  and  night.  In  this  reac- 
tion against  ultra  Calvinism  he  suffered  great 
mental  tort  are.  He  had  been  taught  to  accept 
all  its  postulates,  and  to  follow  them  all  to 
their  logical  conclusions.  God  is  sovereign, 
and  what  he  ordains  is  right,  whether  we  can 
see  it  or  not.  If  he  elects  some  to  be  saved 
and  leaves  others  to  be  lost,  who  are  we  that 
we  should  question  his  acts?  If  you  object, 
you  thereby  give  indication  that  you  belong  to 
the  non-elect,  and  are  a  vessel  of  wrath.  God 
rules;  you  may  be  saved  if  he  hath  so  willed; 
if  not,  you  can  only  enhance  the  severity 
of  your  doom  by  any  questionings  or  cavils. 
These  were  the  views  that  had  been  carefully 
impressed  upon  his  mind,  and  enforced  by  an 
example  of  rare  Christian  consistency.  Great 
characters  have  been  developed  in  this  school 
of  thought;  names  belong  to  it  that  shine  like 
globes  of  fire  in  the  firmament  of  religious 
history.  Ingrafted  on  this  sturdy  stock,  the 
fair  flower  of  Arminian  theology  and  expe- 
rience blooms  in  divinest  beauty,  and  fills  the 
air  with  sweetest  fragrance.    These  two  schools 


Leaving  Home.  23 

of  theology  have  reacted  on  each  other  most 
happily,  there  being  more  strength  in  the  one 
and  more  sweetness  in  the  other  because  of 
their  reciprocal  influence. 

An  uncle  dying  in  America,  one  of  his  cous- 
ins returned  to  England  to  settle  up  an  estate. 
His  representations  of  America  influenced  the 
imagination  of  Thomas,  and  kindled  within 
him  a  strong  desire  to  see  the  New  World. 
He  was  just  at  the  age  when  the  spirit  of  un- 
rest and  adventure  are  strongest  in  youthful 
minds,  and  his  pulse  beat  faster  as  he  gazed 
westward  across  the  water  and  thought  of  the 
vastness,  the  newness,  and  the  grand  possibili- 
ties of  the  Great  Republic.  He  decided  to  go, 
and  took  passage  with  his  cousin. 

We  have  no  record  of  the  leave-taking  with 
Old  England,  nor  of  the  incidents  of  the  voy- 
age. Doubtless  there  was  a  choking  in  his 
throat  and  his  eyes  were  wet  as  he  looked  upon 
the  Purbeck  hills,  which  he  should  see  no 
more,  and  a  strange  sense  of  loneliness  and 
heart-ache  in  the  voyage  across  the  wide  At- 
Ifintic.     At  such   a  time  all  the  past  crowds 


24  Dr.  Summers. 


upon  the  mind,  all  sacred  and  touching  mem- 
ories are  awakened.  A  youth  under  such  cir- 
cumstances may  feel  all  this,  but  he  gives  no 
sign — his  pride  sustains  him,  and  he  jests  and 
laughs  with  a  breaking  heart  But  sadness 
and  sorrow  sit  lightly  upon  the  young;  the 
future  invites  them,  and  they  see  the  beckon- 
ing hands  of  pleasure,  fortune,  and  fame.  If 
Thomas  did  not  succumb  to  seasickness,  we 
are  quite  sure  he  did  not  yield  io  morbid  mel- 
ancholy, though  he  felt  something  of  that 
homesickness  that  comes  upon  all  true  hearts 
when  they  go  out  for  the  first  time  into  the  cold, 
wide  world  alone.  If  called  upon  to  guess 
how  he  conducted  himself  on  this  voyage,  we 
would  say  that  he  was  among  the  most  punct- 
ual at  his  meals,  the  last  to  go  to  bed,  the 
readiest  to  talk,  the  quickest  in  repartee,  and 
the  most  sympathetic  and  helpful  to  any  fel- 
low-passenger who  might  be  sick  or  in  trouble. 
Each  day  brought  him  nearer  to  America,  and 
with  the  questionings  that  agitated  his  mind 
with  regard  to  the  ujisolved  problems  of  re- 
ligion were  mingled  the  half-curious,   half- 


Arrives  in  New  York.  25 

fearful  anticipations  as  to  what  should  befall 
him  OQ  his  arrival.  A  few  sentences  from  his 
own  pen  concerning  this  voyage  would  give 
the  key  to  unlock  the  inner  chamber  of  his 
mind;  but  we  are  left  to  imagine  what  is  not 
recorded. 

He  landed  safely  in  New  York  some  time  in 
the  year  1830,  and  felt  at  once  that  he  had 
come  to  America  to  stay.  An  entry  in  his  own 
handwriting  sa^s:  "From  .the  moment  of  my 
landing  in  New  York,  I  determined  to  make 
the  United  States  my  home."  He  was  then 
in  his  eighteenth  year — slim,  but  compactly 
built,  erect  in  his  bearing,  supple  in  move- 
ment, with  chestnut  hair,  a  well-shaped  head, 
small  hands  and  feet,  what  is  called  a  "  speak- 
ing "  face,  having  a  frank,  open  expression,  a 
lurking  humor  in  the  twinkle  of  his  eye  and 
the  lines  of  his  mouth.  The  most  prominent 
thing  about  him  was  his  extraordinary  vitality 
— it  overflowed  in  all  directions;  his  mind  and 
body  were  surcharged  with  energy. 

The  plunge  into  the  seething  sea  of  life  in 
New  York  gave  him  a  delightful  sensation. 


26  Dr.  Summers. 


He  was  naturalized  instantly;  as  a  gifted  En- 
glishman (the  Rev.  Fred.  \V.  McDonald)  has 
since  said,  "his  heart  was  American  though 
his  backbone  was  English." 

A  new  world  was  now  before  him  in  a  double 
sense — he  had  left  behind  him  .the  old  scenes 
and  associations,  and  at  the  same  time  had  cut 
loose  from  the  old  traditions  and  opinions. 
With  a  delicious,  almost  delirious,  sense  of 
freedom  was  mingled  a  new  feeling  of  respon- 
sibility and  peril.  He' was  now  his  own  man. 
He  must  strike  out  for  himself  in  the  midst 
of  the  currents  into  which  he  was  thrown;  he 
must  swim  or  drown.  God  help  thee,  young 
stranger  tossed  on  these  far-off  shores! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FROM  DEATH  UNTO  LIFE. 

THE  mind  of  young  Summers  was  at  this 
time  in  a  great  ferment  and  undergoing 
great  changes.  With  the  Bible,  as  we  have 
seen,  he  had  become  familiar  in  very  early  life. 
He  had  been  required  to  read  it  regularly,  and 
its  words  were  lodged  in  a  memory  that  never 
let  any  thing  go.  He  was  now  in  a  position  of 
great  peril.  Loosed  from  his  old  moorings, 
he  was  adrift  upon  a  stormy  sea.  His  con- 
science had  been  too  well  educated  to  allow 
him  to  rush  into  gross  immoralities.  But  he 
had  been  so  thoroughly  trained  in  the  doc- 
trines of  Geneva  that  he  could  not  help  seeing 
Calvinism  in  almost  every  part  of  the  Bible, 
and  at  this  system  his  reason  revolted.  He 
soon  came  to  the  conclusion  that  doctrines 
which  made  God  the  author  of  all  evil  in  the 
uniyerse  could  not  be  true ;  he  therefore  re- 
jected them.    But  as  those  doctrines  are  taught 

in  the  Bible,  according  to  the  instructions  he 

(27) 


28  Dr.  Summers. 


had  received,  the  Bible  must  be  set  aside — 
there  was  no  alternative.  His  mental  anguish 
was  intense.  He  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  being  an  infidel,  but  felt  that  he  was  sink- 
ing down  into  that  black  gulf.  He  kept  his 
skepticism  to  himself.  In  debates  on  the  sub- 
ject he  always  defended  the  cause  of  the  Bible 
— and  would  have  given  a  world  to  be  able  to 
believe  it  The  skepticism  that  is  yearning 
for  truth,  and  honestly  feeling  after  it  in  the 
dark,  invites  the  help  of  the  loving  Father  in 
heaven.  The  skepticism  that  laughs  the  fool's 
laugh  at  sacred  things,  and  toys  with  the  ser- 
pent of  doubt  as  with  a  plaything,  repels  the 
light  of  truth  and  closes  the  wicked  and  foolish 
heart  against  the  entrance  of  the  Deliverer. 
He  read  works  designed  to  reconcile  absolute 
predestination  and  moral  agency,  but  they  did 
not  satisfy  him.  He  frequently  heard  Meth- 
odist sermons,  but  the  difficulties  tliat  troubled 
his  mind  were  not  discussed.  He  sought  light 
from  Calvinistic  ministers,  but  in  vain.  "  They 
put  him  off,"  he  says,  "with  a  caveat  con- 
cerning mysteries,  secret  things  belonging  to 


He  Sees  Light.  29 

God,  divine  sovereignty,  duty  of  submission 
whether  we  be  elect  or  reprobate,  unsanctified 
curiosity,  rebellion  of  the  unregenerated  heart, 
natural  aversion  to  the  doctrines  of  grace,  and 
the  like" — a  treatment  which  well-nigh  con- 
firmed him  in  infidelity.  He  had  swept  out 
too  far  on  the  sea  of  free  thought  to  be  drawn 
back  by  such  suggestions  as  these,  however 
well  meant  by  his  honest  advisers.  For  the 
sake  of  argument,  he  often  affected  to  defend 
the  Calvinistic  system.  On  one  occasion  a 
good  old  Methodist  lady,  who  was  not  con- 
vinced by  his  argument,  though  she  could  not 
point  out  its  fallacy,  handed  him  a  copy  of 
Clarke's  Commentary  on  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans,  saying,  "  If  /cannot  answer  you,  here 
is  one  that  can!" 

He  had  never  read  any  Wesleyan  work  on 
the  Calvinistic  controversy.  He  read  the  lucid 
and  masterly  work,  especially  chapters  viii. 
and  ix.  Transported  with  joy,  he  was  ready 
to  exclaim,  "  I  have  found  it! "  He  had  found 
a  key  to  open  the  mysteries  contained  in  this 
and  parallel  passages  of  the  Bible,  and  hence- 


30  De.  SuMMEns. 


forth  it  was  a  new  book  to  him.  He  still  saw 
difficulties  in  it,  but  none  which  discredited  it 
as  a  divine  revelation. 

Though  often  assailed  by  infidelity,  he  re- 
sumed his  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  with 
increased  earnestness.  He  soon  took  to  heart 
the  words  of  Jesus :  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
thee,  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot 
see  the  kingdom  of  God."  He  knew  that  he 
had  not  experienced  the  New  Birth.  At  this 
time  he  was  thrown  among  Methodists.  So 
moral  was  his  life  that  he  was  told  by  one  of 
them  that  he  ought  to  belong  to  their  Church. 
He  looked  him  in  the  face  and  with  great  emo- 
tion replied  that,  though  they  had  given  him 
their  friendship,  none  of  them  had  seemed  to 
care  for  his  soul.  He  was  told  that  they  had 
considered  him  a  Presbyterian,  and  so  needed 
not  their  counsels,  which  might  have  been  con- 
strued into  proselytism — a  thing  the  Method- 
ists had  always  avoided. 

Soon  afterward  a  general  class-meeting  was 
held  at  Ebenezer  Methodist  Church,  Washing- 
ton City,  and  without  consulting  any  one  on 


Joiss  THE  Methodists .  31 

the  subject  he  sought  admission,  and  gave  in 
his  name  as  a  probationary  member  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  This  was  Oct. 
18,  1832.  This  step  had  not  been  taken  until 
he  had  carefully  examined  the  doctrines,  dis- 
cipline, and  usages  of  the  Methodist  Church, 
comparing  them  with  those  of  other  religious 
bodies,  and  satisfying  himself  that  they  were 
nearest  to  the  primitive  and  scriptural  model. 

From  that  time  he  attended  class-meeting 
with  great  punctuality.  Here  he  found  what 
he  needed — a  religious  atmosphere  warm  with 
human  sympathy.  The  leader  of  the  class 
was  a  plain,  godly  man,  deeply  versed  in  holy 
things — a  local  preacher  from  England.  He 
took  great  pains  with  the  young  man,  and  was 
very  helpful  to  him  during  this  period  when 
he  was  in  the  slough  of  despond. 

He  had  come  in  as  a  seeker,  and  he  con- 
tinued to  seek  in  earnest.  He  prayed  for  the 
grace  of  repentance,  using,  he  tells  us,  the  fer- 
vent petitions  of  Wesley's  hymns,  a  volume 
of  which,  brought  by  him  from  England,  was 
his  constant  companion  in  the  closet.     That 


32  Dr.  Summers. 


hymn-book!  who  can  tell  how  much  it  did  to 
mold  his  life  in  its  transition-state  and  ever 
after?  He  got  it  by  heart,  and  there  was  no 
phase  of  doctrine  or  religious  experience  that 
he  could  not  illustrate  by  a  ready  and  apt  quo- 
tation from  its  pages.  In  the  use  thus  made 
of  that  well-worn  little  book  of  sacred  songs 
he  was  being  prepared  for  a  valuable  service 
to  the  Church  in  a  coming  day.  He  had  set 
his  heart  on  the  type  of  conversion  emphasized 
in  these  hymns  —  the  sudden,  the  overwhelm- 
ing, the  ecstatic.  He  wanted  to  feel  the  shocks 
of  grace ;  to  have  his  heart  broken  all  to  pieces 
by  the  rod  of  God;  to  feel,  as  it  were,  the 
flames  of  hell  gathering  around  him;  and  then 
to  realize,  by  a  quick  transition, 

Th'  o'erwhelming  power  of  siiving  grace, 
The  piglit  that  veils  the  seraph's  face. 

But  God  brought  him  by  another  way.  He 
was  taught  that  the  repentance  is  genuine 
which  leads  a  man  to  mourn  because  he  cannot 
mourn;  to  abandon  all  his  sins;  to  cast  him- 
self exclusively  upon  the  mercy  of  the  Father, 
the  merit  of  the  Son,  and  the  grace  of  the 


BoRX  Again. 


Holy  Spirit,  with  full  purpose  of  future  obe- 
dience. So  the  blessing  came  to  his  hungry 
soul  at  last.  Here  is  the  story  in  his  own 
words: 

"One  day  —  January  16,  1833 — while  read- 
ing the  sixth  chapter  of  the  Gospel  of  John, 
at  first  a  little  puzzled  with  some  verses  in  that 
chapter  which  I  had  been  formerly  taught  to 
interpret  according  to  the  Calvinistic  platform 
of  partial  peace  and  effectual  calling,  I  seized 
on  the  Saviour's  declaration,  'Him  that  com- 
eth  unto  me,  I  ivill  in  noivise  cast  out,'  and  by  a 
vigorous  effort  of  the  mind,  assisted  by  the 
Spirit  of  faith,  I  ventured  on  Christ,  and  so 
believed  on  the  Son  of  God  as  to  have  the  wit- 
ness in  myself.  My  experience  corresponded 
with  the  language  of  Mr.  Wesley,  which  in- 
stantly came  to  my  mind: 

Long  my  imprisoned  spirit  lay 
Fast  bound  in  sin,  and  nature's  night: 

Thine  eye  diffused  a  quick' ning  ray; 
I  woke;  the  dungeon  flamed  with  light! 

My  chains  fell  off)  my  heart  was  free; 

I  rose,  went  forth,  and  followed  thee. 


34  Dr.  Summers. 


No  condemnation  now  I  dread; 

Jesus,  and  all  in  him,  is  mine! 
»Alive  in  him,  my  living  Head, 

And  clothed  in  righteousness  divine, 
Bold  I  approach  th'  eternal  throne. 
And  claim  the  crown,  through  Christ,  my  own. 

"I  felt  like  singing  the  stanza  which  thou 
Bands  in  like  circumstances  have  sung: 

My  God  is  reconciled. 

His  pard'ning  voice  I  hear: 

He  owns  me  for  his  child. 
I  can  no  longer  fear: 

With  confidence  I  now  draw  nigh, 

And  Fatlier,  Abba  Father,  cry." 


CHAPTER  V. 

PREACHES  HIS  FIRST  SERMON. 

THERE  was  great  rejoicing  among  the 
brethren  at  the  class-meeting  when  the 
young  convert  told  them  that  after  so  long  and 
painful  a  struggle  he  had  passed  from  death 
unto  life.  They  all  knelt  together,  and  devout- 
ly thanked  God  for  his  mercy;  and  when  they 
rose  from  their  knees,  there  were  bursts  of  holy 
song,  hearty  hand -shakings,  and  joyful  con- 
gratulations. 

That  was  the  way  in  those  days.  Conver- 
sion was  a  great  event,  and  among  Methodists 
like  those  it  excited  a  joy  akin  to  that  felt 
among  the  angels  of  God  over  a  repenting 
sinner. 

The  class-meeting  was  the  crucible  in  which 
the  soul  of  Summers  was  melted  and  the  ma- 
trix in  which  it  was  molded.  While  groping 
in  the  darkness  of  doubt,  he  found  there  testi- 
mony that  he  could  not  gainsay,  and  a  tender 
concern  for  his  soul  that  drew  and  held  him 

(3o) 


36  Dr.  Summers. 


to  Christian  association.  After  his  conversion, 
when  still  fiercely  assailed,  as  he  was  from  time 
to  time,  by  doubts,  he  found  in  the  class-meet- 
ing the  help  he  needed  in  the  wise  counsels, 
the  varied  experiences,  and  the  brotherly  sym- 
pathies of  its  members.  The  name  of  the  old 
Englishman  who  led  that  class  is  not  given, 
but  his  work  abides.  It  is  not  strange  that  to 
his  dying-day  Summers  loved  the  class-meet- 
ing. But  it  is  strange  that  any  Methodist 
should  be  willing  to  abandon  a  means  of  grace 
so  holTored  of  the  Lord.  And  it  is  strangest 
of  all  that  among  those  who  now  would  give 
up  the  class -meeting  are  some  who  owe  to 
it,  under  God,  the  best  influences  that  have 
blessed  their  lives. 

The  young  convert,  though  still  retaining 
his  sense  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  tells  us 
that  he  was  "constantly  passing  through  the 
fire  and  water  of  temptation."  He  was  not 
tempted  to  doubt  so  much  the  genuineness  of 
his  conversion  as  the  truth  and  divine  origin 
of  the  Christian  religion.  This  led  him  to 
fortify  his  mind  with  all  the  arguments  be- 


Has  He  a  Call?  37 

longing  to  the  great  question  of  the  evidences 
of  Christianity,  and  to  set  an  emphatic  esti- 
mate on  that  inward  demonstration  of  its  truth 
which  the  witness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  supplies. 
His  opinions  were  now  crystallizing  into  per- 
manent form,  and  his  experience  taking  its 
abiding  type  under  conditions  that  gave  clear- 
ness to  the  one  and  intensity  to  the  other. 

His  wise  old  class-leader  told  him  that  "  he 
judged  the  Lord  had  a  work  for  hiim  to  do,  to 
prepare  him  for  which  he  permitted  him  to 
realize  in  his  early  experience,  on  so  l^rge  a 
scale,  the  assaults  of  the  great  enemy." 

This  remark  made  a  deep  impression  on  his 
mind.  For  although  he  had  kept  it  to  him- 
self, yet  from  the  time  of  his  conversion  he 
had  been  impressed  that  God  designed  him 
for  the  ministry.  The  movement  of  his  mind 
in  that  direction  was  irresistible.  The  study 
of  theology  engaged  his  attention  almost  ex- 
clusively, the  internal  impulse  moving  him 
onward  to  the  work  to  which  he  was  destined, 
though  as  yet  with  no  clear  perception  of  the 
call  or  fixed  plan  of  action.     In  most  cases 


38  Dr.  Summers. 

where  there  is  a  true  call  of  God  to  the  min- 
istry, it  dates  back  to  a  very  early  period  in  the 
life  of  its  subject.  Does  not  the  call  in  some 
cases  in  some  degree  antedate  conversion  it- 
self? God  has  a  plan  for  every  man's  life, 
and  in  the  light  of  accomplished  events  the 
clew  to  His  gracious  dealing  may  be  seen  where 
it  was  not  looked  for  or  thought  of  at  the  time 
when  events  were  shaping  for  the  intended 
result. 

The  next  year  his  class-leader  again  pro- 
posed the  question  to  him,  telling  him  that 
from  the  start  he  had  been  satisfied  God  would 
call  him  to  the  ministry,  but  that  he  had  for- 
borne to  say  any  thing  to  him  on  the  subject 
until  the  lapse  of  a  reasonable  space  of  time. 
Summers  waived  the  matter  by  telling  his 
friend  that  if  God  wanted  him  for  the  work 
he  would  not  fail  to  bring  him  into  it  without 
any  of  his  own  agency.  Another  friend  ad- 
vised him  to  apply  for  a  license  to  exhort. 
From  many  quarters  there  came  these  indica- 
tions that,  concurrent  with  other  providential 
leadings  toward. the  ministry,  was  the  call  of 


At  Quarterly  Conferenck.  39 

the  Church,  The  subject  was  mentioned  in  an 
official  meeting,  but  no  one  had  heard  him 
attempt  an  exhortation,  even  in  a  prayer-meet- 
ing. He  had  made  an  effort  in  a  woman's 
class-meeting,  of  which  he  had  been  appointed 
leader,  but  in  a  way  very  far  from  being  satis- 
factory to  himself.  Thinking  himself  unsuited 
to  the  functions  of  that  office,  he  felt  it  to  be 
his  duty  to  ask  for  a  release  from  the  leader- 
ship. 

Shortly  after  this  the  quarterly-meeting  was 
held.  The  Eev.  Alfred  Griffith  was  the  pre- 
siding elder.  Mr.  Griffith's  attention  had  been 
especially  directed  to  young  Summers  since 
hearing  his  experience  at  the  love-feast.  The 
strong  individuality,  the  impetuous  manner, 
the  peculiar  phases  of  the  young  man's  expe- 
rience, arrested  the  attention  of  the  devout  and 
vigilant  presiding  elder,  who  was  a  discerner 
of  spirits,  and  kept  a  vigilant  lookout  for  re- 
cruits to  the  laborers  in  the  fields  white  to 
the  harvest.  Summers  attended  the  Quarterly 
Conference,  drawn  thither  by  the  mysterious 
magnetism  tliat  brings  the  willing  soul  to  the 


40  Dr.  Summers. 


place  where  it  is  to  receive  the  illuminating 
Hash  or  the  decisive  impulse. 

Fixing  his  eye  upon  the  young  man,  in  a 
grave  but  kindly  tone  Mr.  Griffith  asked:  "Dc 
you  wish  to  apply  for  license  to  preach,  and 
recommendation  to  the  Annual  Conference  to 
be  admitted  on  trial?" 

"No,"  answered  Summers,  while  a  crowd  of 
exciting  and  bewildering  thoughts  agitated  his 
mind. 

"Do  you  think  that  God  has  called  you  to 
the  ministry?"  asked  the  presiding  elder. 

"For  some  time  I  have  been  so  impressed," 
he  replied  meekly,  in  trembling  accents. 

"  If  the  Church  needs  your  services,  will  you 
give  them?"  asked  the  patient  pi'esiding  elder. 

"If  I  could  do  good,  I  would  be  willing  to 
go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth!"  exclaimed  the 
young  man  in  a  burst  of  deep  feeling. 

That  practically  settled  the  matter.  The 
usual  questions,  "Have  you  any  matrimonial 
engagements?"  "Are  you  in  debt?"  with  a 
number  on  theological  points,  were  proposed 
and  answered,  and  then  Summers  was  asked 


His  First  Sehmon.  41 

to  retire.  AVhen  called  in,  he  was  told  that 
the  Conference  had  granted  him  license  to 
preach,  and  a  recommendation  to  the  Annual 
Conference. 

This  process  seems  summary,  but  the  pre- 
siding elder  had  inquired  concerning  young 
Summers  of  two  brethren  who  had  taken  him 
into  the  country  on  preaching  excursions.  One 
of  them  had  caused  him  to  exhort  after  his 
sermon.  The  result  was  not  satisfactory  to 
the  exhorter,  whatever  may  have  been  the 
judgment  of  the  preacher.  A  call  was  made 
on  him  to  exhort  again  after  the  evening  ser- 
mon, but  this  he  positively  declined  to  do. 

"Then,  sir,  you  must  preach!"  was  the  per- 
emptory answer. 

He  consented,  and  that  night  preached  his 
first  sermon.  It  was  in  a  little,  old-fashioned 
house,  dimly  lighted — Bell's  Meeting-house, 
Prince  George  county,  Maryland — a  church  in 
which  Bishop  Asbury  sometimes  had  preached. 
Of  that  first  sermon  we  know  two  things — 
first,  the  text,  which  was  Luke  xxiv.  46,  47: 
"Thus   it  is  written,  and  thus  it  behooved 


42  Dh.  Summers. 


Christ  to  suffer,  and  to  rise  from  the  dead  the 
tliird  day;  and  that  repentance  and  remission 
of  sins  should  be  preached  in  his  name  among 
all  nations,  beginning  at  Jerusalem."  The 
other  fact  that  we  know  about  the  sermon  is 
that  it  was  a  full  hour  long!  Sow  it  was  re- 
ceived by  the  rustic  auditors  is  not  known,  but 
we  cannot  doubt  that  the  earnestness  and  en- 
ergy of  the  preacher  kept  them  awake.  The 
date  of  this  first  sermon  was  Nov.  9, 1834.  So 
the  question  as  to  whether  he  could  preach 
was  settled  before  the  memorable  Quarterly 
Conference.  He  had  been  thrown  into  the 
water,  and  it  was  found  that  he  could  swim, 
though  it  might  be  with  an  awkward  stroke. 
The  ability  to  preach  is  one  of  the  signs  of  a 
call  to  preach  :  where  this  is  wanting  in  a  can- 
didate for  license,  there  is  a  mistake  some- 
where. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HIS   FIRST   CIRCUIT. 

AT  the  session  of  the  Baltimore  Confer- 
ence he!d  at  Winchester,  Va.,  March, 
1835,  Mr.  Summers  was  admitted  on  trial.  He 
was  not  present,  and  so  lost  the  benefit  of 
seeing  and  hearing  the  cultured  and  saintly 
Emory,  who  presided.  It  must  have  been  a 
strong  reason  that  kept  the  young  preacher 
from  attending  the  Conference.  He  loved  and 
magnified  such  occasions. 

He  was  "read  out"  to  the  Augusta  Circuit, 
in  the  Valley  of  Virginia,  the  Rev.  John  Hen- 
ning  being  his  senior  colleague.  For  some 
cause,  Mr.  Henning  did  not  go  to  his  circuit; 
so  for  months  Mr.  Summers  was  alone  in  the 
work;  after  which  the  Rev.  F.  M.  Mills  was 
sent  in  Mr.  Henning's  place. 

The  Baltimore  Conference  was  still  exten- 
sive in  territory,  though  reduced  in  size  from 
what  it  was  when  it  reached  to  the  Northern 
lakes,  and  westward  to  settlements  beyond  the 

(-13) 


44  Dr.  Summers. 


Ohio.  Its  territory  still  embraced  the  larger 
portion  of  Pennsylvania,  the  western  shore  of 
Maryland,  the  District  of  Columbia,  and  a 
large  portion  of  Virginia.  Stations  then  were 
few.  Most  of  the  charges  were  four- weeks' 
circuits,  embracing  from  twenty  to  twenty- 
eight  preaching  appointments  each.  Up  to 
that  time  it  had  never  been  known  that  a 
young  preacher  had  been  stationed  more  than 
the  first  year  over  the  same  charge,  though 
some  then  were  as  gifted  and  as  well  educated 
as  now. 

In  those  days  a  "breaking  in  to  the  work" 
was  allotted  to  every  one  just  admitted  on 
trial.  The  mountains  and  hill-country  of  Vir- 
ginia and  Pennsylvania  were  well  adapted  to 
this  end.  Some  of  the  circuits  of  lower  Maiy- 
land  might  be  thought  large  enough  and  hard 
enough,  with  their  twenty-eight  appointments, 
sandy  roads,  endless  gates  to  be  opened  and 
shut,  mosquitoes  by  the  million,  and  ague  and 
fever  for  new-comers.  But  the  canny  old 
presiding  elders  did  not  think  these  lower 
circuits  the  best  for  young  men.     They  were 


'^ Breaking  In"  •       45 

too  near  the  smoke  of  Baltimore,  had  too  many 
homes  of  rich  planters,  too  much  eating  of 
juicy,  rich-flavored  oysters  and  other  fish,  too 
much  pampering  of  the  flesh,  and  too  much 
elegant  and  captivating  female  society.  The 
injunction  to  "converse  sparingly  with  women  " 
was  emphasized  at  that  time,  when  Maryland 
Methodists  were  generally  strict  construction- 
ists of  the  Discipline.  The  elders  kindly 
strove  to  save  the  juniors  from  temptation,  and 
sent  them  to  the  mountains  to  be  toughened, 
hardened,  tamed  down  to  itinerant  adaptability 
and  efficiency.  These  sturdy  old  saints  were 
no  respecters  of  persons — whatever  the  native 
endowments  or  education  of  a  young  preacher, 
he  had  to  pass  in  through  this  strait  gate. 
A  young  man  was  not  then  allowed  to  grad- 
uate before  he  was  received  on  trial. 

So  young  Summers  was  appointed  to  Au- 
gusta Circuit  as  junior  preacher  to  J.  P.  Hen- 
ning,  preacher  in  charge,  with  Norval  Wilson 
as  presiding  elder  of  the  district. 

Augusta  Circuit  was  in  the  Valley  of  Vir- 
ginia, two  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  from 


46         •  Dr.  Summers. 


Washington  City.  It  can  now  be  reached  in 
BIX  hours  by  raih"oad;  then,  by  horseback,  over 
muddy  and  rocky  roads,  it  took  ten  days  of 
steady  travel  through  all  sorts  of  weather. 

In  making  the  journey  to  his  circuit,  Sum- 
mers was  joined  by  another  young  preacher, 
John  S.  Mai-tin,  who  had  been  received  at  the 
same  Conference  in  the  class  with  himself. 
Starting  from  Washington,  as  they  passed 
through  AlefXandria  they  received  many  good 
wishes  and  prayers  from  the  old  Methodists 
there.  The  kind  old  brothers  and  sisters  also 
gave  them  due  warning  that  there  were  severe 
labors  and  many  hardships  ahead,  usually  clos- 
ing by  saying,  "The  times  are  much  easier 
now  than  when  the  old  preachers  started  out 
fifty  years  ago." 

The  route  to  be  traveled  after  crossing  into 
Virginia  stretched  out  through  the  counties  of 
Fairfax,  Prince  William,  Fauquier,  and  Rap- 
pahannock; and  crossing  the  Blue  Ridge  and 
Massanutteu  Mountains,  they  were  to  pass 
up  the  beautiful  Valley  of  the  Shenandoah, 
through   Shenandoah,  Rockingham,  and   Au- 


On  the  lloAD.  4.7 


gQsta  counties.  These  itinerant  novices  could 
learn  much  in  a  journey  like  this. 

They  had  been  previously  told  by  preachers 
familiar  with  the  route  what  roads  to  take  or 
avoid,  where  they  should  "  stop  to  feed  "  or  put 
up  for  the  night.  The  first  evening  of  their 
journey  they  reached  Dogan's,  twenty-seven 
miles  from  Alexandria,  At  the  opening  of  a 
lane  leading  to  the  house  some  ladies  and  a 
gentleman  were  standing.  Sunftners  asked, 
"Is  that  house  at  the  end  of  the  lane  Mr. 
Dogan's?  " 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply. 

"Then  that  is  the  house  at  which  we  were 
directed  to  stop  for  the  night,"  said  one  of  the 
young  preachers. 

"They  cannot  take  care  of  you,  as  some  of 
the  family  are  sick,"  said  one  of  the  group. 

"Where,  then,  can  we  stay?" 

"  There  is  no  place  this  side  of  Warrenton, 
sixteen  miles  farther  on — though  at  Buckland, 
eight  miles  off,  there  is  a  house,  but  it  is  a 
disorderly  place." 

"That  won't   do  for  us,"  said  the  young 


48  Dr.  Summers. 


preachers;  "we  Avill  go  on  to  Warrenton,  if  wo 
have  to  ride  till  ten  o'clock." 

They  had  gone  only  a  few  yards,  when  they 
were  called  back  and  invited  to  ride  up  to  the 
house.  As  they  dismounted,  and  the  gentle- 
man took  their  saddle-bags  and  the  servant 
led  away  their  horses,  one  of  the  ladies  asked, 
"Are  you  not  Methodist  preachers?" 

Answering  in  the  affirmative,  the  young  men 
were  advised  to  let  that  fact  be  known  wher- 
ever they  stopped. 

Summers  thereafter  did  not  fail  to  follow 
this  advice.  His  first  salutation  on  reaching 
a  place  was,  "We  are  Methodist  preachers 
traveling  to  our  circuits."  That  was  enough 
in  all  cases  —  the  doors  of  the  people  were 
thrown  wide  open  at  once. 

On  entering  the  house,  it  was  found  that  the 
Rev.  T.  Allen,  the  preacher  on  that  circuit, 
was  very  sick — which  was  the  cause  of  the 
hesitation  in  the  oflfer  of  entertainment  for  the 
night.  The  sick  preacher  was  glad  to  see  his 
young  brethren,  and  they  in  turn  were  much 
profited  by  the  recital  of  the  labors  and  suffer- 


A  Methodist  Matron.  49 

iugs  of  the  faithful  servant  of  Christ,  who  a 
few  days  afterward  entered  into  rest.  The 
solemnity  of  the  scene  impressed  them  deeply. 
Three  days  of  hard  riding  took  them  over 
the  miry  roads  across  the  Blue  Ridge  and 
Massanutten  into  the  Valley  of  the  Shenan- 
doah. Near  Harrisonburg  they  stopped  to 
feed  their  horses  and  dine  at  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Diana  Smith,  an  aged  Methodist  matron. 
Here  hospitality  had  long  abounded.  Every 
Methodist  preacher  passing  through  the  valley 
was  expected  to  call  at  her  house.  This  ex- 
cellent lady,  who  was  related  to  the  first  fami- 
lies of  that  region,  was  noted  for  her  bold 
advocacy  of  Methodist  doctrine,  and  for  the 
simplicity  and  fervor  peculiar  to  Methodists 
in  that  early  time.  She  exercised  the  privilege 
of  plain  speech  on  all  occasions  and  to  all  sorts 
of  persons,  preachers  included.  This  mother 
in  Israel  received  the  young  itinerants  kindl}', 
and  at  once  took  them  in  hand  with  a  view  to 
start  them  out  right  "in  the  good  old  way." 
She  warned  them  against  the  gins  and  snares 
set  for  young  preachers,  and  urged  them  to 


60  Dn.  Summers. 


witness  boldly  for  the  doctrines  and  discipline 
of  Methodism.  They  ate  and  listened  as  she 
exhorted  them  to  be  studious,  and  "  prepare  to 
meet  Cahdriism,"  which  would  confront  them  at 
every  step.  They  heard  with  delight  her  glow- 
ing narrative  of  the  victories  of  Methodism  in 
Rockingham  in  early  times  under  the  ministry 
of  Billy  Cravens,  Gerard  Morgan,  Bruce,  and 
others. 

Dinner  being  over,  the  horses  were  led  by 
the  servants  to  the  gate.  The  young  preachers 
arose  to  go  and  to  say  good-by.  Sister  Smith 
took  the  hand  of  each,  but  held  it  fast  till  she 
gave  her  solemn  admonition  against  the  world 
of  fashion  and  show,  which  she  said  was  creep- 
ing into  the  Church.  She  had,  she  said,  a 
special  word,  which  she  thought  these  young 
preachers  needed  more  than  any  she  had 
seen. 

What  was  coming  they  did  not  know,  b\it 
the  deeply  solemn  tone  of  this  Methodist 
mother  impressed  them  strongly. 

"Young  brethren,"  she  said,  "you  have  not 
called  the  family  to  prayer  since  you  came, 


A  Lessox  Learned.  51 

and  now  yon  are  going  away  without  asking  a 
blessing  on  us." 

The  family,  including  the  servants,  were 
called  in,  and  each  of  the  preachers  prayed. 
There  were  hearty  "  amens  "  from  Sister  Smith, 
and  a  shout  at  the  close  of  the  service— not  an 
unusual  thing  in  those  times,  when  Methodism 
was  on  its  victorious  march  over  this  continent, 
singing  and  shouting  as  it  went. 

The  young  preachers  promised  to  pray  wher- 
ever they  stopped.  Summers  seemed  to  be 
specially  impressed  with  the  importance  of 
doing  so.  At  every  place  where  he  stopped, 
though  it  might  be  only  for  an  hour,  he  would 
say,  "  Come,  let  us  pray  before  we  part."  Sis- 
ter Smith  had  given  him  a  lesson  to  last  him 
for  a  life-time. 

Summers's  spectacles,  which  were  always  get- 
ting in  his  way,  and  his  double-lapelled  coat, 
had  not  pleased  Sister  Smith.  His  quick  En- 
glish manner  was  interpreted  as  too  great  for- 
wardness for  a  young  man,  and  he  was  admon- 
ished to  be  careful  as  he  was  just  starting  out; 
she  "had  known  young  preachers  who  seemed 


52  Dr.  Summers. 


to  require  a  fifty-six-pound  weight  to  keep 
them  down,  or  the  presiding  elder  had  to  send 
them  out  from  one  mountain  circuit  to  another 
just  to  bring  them  down  to  the  level  of  things." 

Martin  came  in  for  his  share  of  reproof  in 
another  way.  The  morning  had  been  warm, 
and  the  hair  of  his  head  was  pushed  up  to  the 
front  b}'^  the  movement  of  his  hat  when  riding. 
He  was  severely  rebuked  by  Sister  Smith  for 
appearing  before  her  with  a  "top-knot" — an 
allusion  to  a  then  fashionable  head-dress,  and 
the  special  horror  of  all  Methodist  advocates 
of  humility  and  plainness  of  dress.  Martin 
pleaded  that  he  had  not  been  aware  that  his 
hat  had  so  pushed  up  his  hair,  and  also  alleged 
that  "  top-knots  "  had  ceased  to  be  the  fashion 
in  Washington.  But  he  was  curtly  informed 
that  they  were  still  the  fashion  in  Kockingham, 
and  was  advised  to  go  to  the  barber's  the  first 
opix)rtunity  and  have  his  hair  cut. 

Summers  had  another  lesson  on  this  journey. 
He  and  his  fellow-itinerant  reached  a  certain 
place  where  a  considerable  company  had  been 
drawn  to  the  house  by  the  novelty  of  the  pres- 


Another  Rebuff.  53 

ence  of  two  young  preachers.  Summers  be- 
fore parting  gave  the  authoritative  summons 
to  prayer,  and  as  they  knelt  he  called,  though 
a  stranger,  on  an  older  preacher  to  lead  the 
prayer.  The  aged  brother,  thinking  this  young 
man  whom  he  had  just  met  for  the  first  time 
was  usurping  his  own  place,  bluntly  responded, 
"You  will  pray  yourself  if  you  w^ant  to!"    . 


CHAPTER  VII 

FIRST  CIRCUIT  (CONTINUED) 

SUMMERS  and  Martin  were  the  first  to 
bring  to  the  Staunton  Methodists  the  news 
from  the  late  Conference.  Eagerly  the  little 
band  of  Methodists  in  the  town  flocked  to  the 
house  of  Judson  McCoy  to  hear  of  the  "  ap- 
pointments." Criticisms  were  freely  made 
concerning  some  of  the  appointments  for  the 
adjoining  circuits.  Especially  was  it  said  that 
Staunton,  then  a  town  of  fifteen  hundred  in- 
habitants, should  have  been  properly  cared 
for.  "  There  was  no  place  more  important  any- 
where," it  was  declared;  it  had  an  able  bar; 
judges  of  great  distinction  resided  there;  the 
stage  lines  centered  there.  In  such  a  place  a 
preacher  of  prominence  and  ability  was  needed 
to  cope  with  the  Presbyterians,  who  were  very 
strong. 

Summers  was  amazed  that  people  so  far  out 
in  the  mountains  should  feel  and  talk  in  this 

wny,  and  spoke  his  mind  freely.     In  his  bluff, 

(54) 


Rousing  the  Virginians.  55 

empliatic  way  he  cautioned  the  brethren  against 
any  arraignment,  even  by  implication,  of  the 
appointing  power;  he  told  them  he  had  been 
brought  up  in  England,  where  he  had  seen  the 
old  preachers  who  had  always  stood  in  awe  of 
John  Wesley's  authority;  and  that  Mr.  Wes- 
ley designed  that  on  this  side  of  the  water  the 
preachers  and  people  should  equally  venerate 
the  power  transferred  to  Mr.  Asbury  and  his 
successors. 

The  Virginians  were  high-spirited  as  well  as 
kind,  and  resented  this  reproof.  Among  those 
present  were  some  who,  twenty  years  before, 
had  served  in  the  war  against  Great  Britain 
and  the  Indian  savages  she  had  employed 
against  the  Western  settlements  just  beyond 
their  boundary.  Though  grace  had  regener- 
ated these  old  soldiers,  they  fired  up,  and  were 
not  slow  in  letting  Summers  know  that  on  this 
side  of  the  water  the  preachers  and  people  did 
not  need  advice  from  the  English  preachers 
and  people — "especially,"  they  said,  "since  the 
English,  when  they  come  over  here,  pretend 
to  know  more  than  anv  among  us." 


56  Dr.  S  VMM  EPS. 


Summers  was  quick  in  this  as  in  other  cases 
t(i  learn.  He  saw  that  he  was  among  a  people 
to  whom  he  would  be  wise  to  address  spar- 
ingly the  language  of  rebuke. 

The  two  travelers,  who  had  journeyed  to- 
gether exposed  to  the  March  winds,  plunging 
through  the  deep  mud  and  scrambling  over 
the  rocks  on  horseback,  were  now  to  paii;. 
Summers  was  to  go  fourteen  miles  east  to 
Waynesboro,  head  -  quaiiers  of  Jiis  circuit, 
while  Martin  was  to  pursue  his  journey  still 
farther  up  the  valley  to  Lexington. 

The  little  class  at  Waynesboro  received  with 
joy  their  new  preacher.  They  were  looking 
for  J.  A.  Henning,  who  had  been  read  out  at 
Conference  as  preacher  in  charge,  to  come  and 
"give  out  the  appointments  for  the  work." 
But  he  came  not — he  had  declined  to  go  to  his 
work.  Refractory  preachers  were  as  common 
then  as  now  in  the  Conferences.  It  is  true 
tlie  times  and  requirements  of  itinerancy  were 
diflferent— circuits  harder,  moves  farther,  pay 
smaller.  A  consecrated  heart,  a  heroic  spirit, 
and  a  strong  body  were  then  necessary  for 


On  His  Circuit.  57 

the  work.  Parsonages  were  few.  No  dinner- 
table  was  spread  or  reception  at  the  parsonage 
awaited  the  preacher  on  his  arrival,  as  is  the 
custom  now.  The  Baltimore  Conference,  in 
that  day  of  rigid  discipline,  failed  not  to 
"hackle"  the  preacher  or  "drop"  or  expel 
him  for  not  going  to  his  work.  Henning  es- 
caped, having  a  good  excuse.  But,  true  to  the 
rigid  usage  of  the  time,  he  was  sent  the  next 
year  as  second  man  on  a  circuit. 

The  failure  of  the  preacher  in  charge  to 
come  to  the  work  devolved  heavy  responsibility 
upon  the  young  preacher  of  Augusta  Circuit. 
The  work  was  large,  extending  from  the  Blue 
Eidge  and  crossing  the  North  Mountain,  and 
embraced  twenty-five  appointments,  with  four 
hundred  members.  The  sacraments  he  could 
not  administer,  as  he  had  not  been  ordained. 
This  was  attended  to  in  some  measure  by  the 
presiding  elder  at  the  quarterly-meetings,  and 
by  local  preachers.  He  had  to  preach  every 
day;  and  he  "led  class" — ^as  every  Methodist 
preacher  had  to  do  at  that  day,  much  to  their 
own  advantage  as  well  as  that  of  their  people. 


68  Dr.  Summers. 


A  failure  to  lead  class  was  reported  to  the  pre- 
siding elder;  at  Conference  the  preacher  would 
be  examined,  and  Avith  a  view  to  reforming 
him  he  would  be  sent  to  some  more  distant 
circuit  in  the  mountains. 

Summers  prepared  his  sermons  as  carefully 
as  he  could  riding  from  place  to  place  and 
tarrying  for  the  night.  Preaching  and  class- 
leading  were  attended  to.  His  heart  was  in 
the  work,  and  he  put  into  it  all  his  energies. 
He  was  noted  for  his  punctuality  in  meeting 
all  his  engagements.  His  fidelity  won  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  They  liked  their  young 
preacher.  He  being  now  advanced  to  preacher 
in  charge,  determined  to  magnify  his  office. 
The  children  were  catechised,  prayers  were 
offered  in  every  family  with  whom  lie  stopped, 
Sunday-schools  were  organized,  and  "  two  days' 
meetings"  were  held.  The  official  members 
sent  word  to  the  presiding  elder  that  they  did 
not  want  any  better  preacher  in  charge  than 
their  junior  preacher.  He  was  successful  and 
popular  on  the  Augusta  Circuit. 

But  it  was  not  all  easy  sailing.'   Fault-finders 


Ris  Spectacles.  59 

were  not  wanting.  Some  asked  him  to  sing 
more  lively  tunes,  and  not  use  such  long  old 
hymns;  some  thought  he  quoted  too  much  of 
Charles  Wesley's  poetry  in  his  preaching; 
others  complained  that  he  did  not  tell  anec- 
dotes, or  make  people  cry.  His  appearance 
was  also  criticised.  He  was  neat  and  clean 
but  not  foppish  in  his  dress ;  yet  some  objected 
that  he  had  no  round-breasted  coat,  and  had 
little  patience  with  him  when  he  replied,  "  Mr. 
"Wesley  never  wore  a  shad-bellied  coat,  but 
one  with  a  full  skirt."  His  double-lapelled, 
English-looking  coat  destroyed  the  good  eflfect 
of  his  preaching  with  some  of  the  brothers  and 
sisters  of  the  old-time  stock. 

Summers's  silver  -  rimmed  spectacles  were 
especially  in  his  way.  One  old  sister  told  him 
that  he  ought  to  see  as  well  without  them,  as 
he  was  younger  than  the  junior  preacher  of 
last  year;  another  told  him  it  was  only  pride 
that  made  him  wear  them,  for  no  one  could 
see  better  through  them,  she  having  tried  them 
herself  and  not  being  able  to  see  at  all;  others 
thought  it  was  only  vanity,  "  pretending  that  he 


60  Dr.  Summers. 


had  read  so  many  books  as  to  hurt  his  eyes." 
There  were  yet  others  who  told  him  that  if  he 
were  compelled  to  use  spectacles  he  ought  not 
to  use  silver  but  steel  frames,  and  then  he 
would  not  be  breaking  the  General  Rules, 
which  forbid  the  wearing  of  gold  or  costly  ap- 
parel. What  further  rebuke  he  would  have 
received  it  is  hard  to  say  had  he  not  one  day 
been  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  his  spectacles 
from  his  head  while  his  horse  was  restive.  He 
was  carried  on  from  one  place  to  another,  un- 
able to  discern  the  roads  or  to  distinguish 
objects,  until  a  friend  took  hold  of  his  horse's 
bridle-rein  and  led  him  to  his  home.  This  oc- 
currence settled  the  spectacle  question,  though 
some  old-time  brethren  still  insisted  that  young 
Brother  Summers  ought  to  use  spectacles  with 
rims  of  brass  or  steel  instead  of  silver. 

The  task  of  organizing  and  working  a  cir- 
cnit  was  strange  to  Summers.  He  had  been 
brought  up  in  England,  where  circuit  arrange- 
ments were  exact,  local  preachers  fitting  in 
regularly  in  the  work,  class-leaders  being  ad- 
justed to  their  places,  and  even  the  horse  was 


''Joe  Benson's  Rule:'  61 

owned  and  provided  by  the  circuit  for  the  use 
of  the  preachers.  His  own  brief  experience 
in  America  was  limited  to  the  Navy  Yard  Sta- 
tion in  Washington  City,  where  there  was  but 
one  church  in  the  charge.  The  condition  of 
things  among  the  hills  on  the  Augusta  Circuit 
was  very  diiferent.  How  he  could  keep  up 
the  work  of  preaching,  daily  riding  through 
all  sorts  of  weather  over  all  sorts  of  roads  ex- 
cept smooth  ones  from  ten  to  thirty  miles  a 
day,  hold  service  in  school-houses  or  log-huts, 
or  out  in  the  woods,  and  yet  follow  any  regular 
course  of  study,  seemed  a  difficult  problem. 
But  he  did  it.  "I  will  follow  Joe  Benson's 
rule,"  he  said;  "I  will  have  my  sermons  ready 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and  then  while 
riding  on  my  horse  to  my  preaching  appoint- 
ments I  will  read  on  the  subject." 

Beading  on  horseback  was  then  common  to 
presiding  elders  and  circuit  preachers  on  their 
long  rides,  as  in  no  other  way  could  they  get 
the  time  to  read.  Despite  his  defective  eye- 
sight, he  read  thousands  of  pages  in  this  way. 
The  reading  thus  done  is  apt  to  be  accompanied 


; 


62  Dr.  Summers. 


by  some  thinking — which  is  not  always  the 
case  in  the  midst  of  large  libraries  and  learned 
tutors. 

After  preaching  and  leading  class,  he  would 
stop  at  the  house  of  some  brother  on  his  way 
to  his  next  appointment,  where  he  found  op- 
portunity in  the  afternoon  for  maturing  his 
thoughts  by  writing.  Now  and  then  he  was 
favored  with  a  separate  room  apart  from  the 
family  and  with  a  fire.  But  this  was  only  at 
a  few  places.  Undaunted  by  difficulties,  he 
soon  acquired  the  habit  of  reading  and  study 
and  writing  when  in  the  same  room  with  the 
children  and  work-people  in  the  families  he 
visited. 

Such  were  the  surroundings  of  many  of  the 
earlier  preachers  who  were  successful  students 
and  who  rose  to  distinction  in  the  councils  of 
the  Church.  ►. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FIRST  CIRCUIT  (CONTINUED). 

ME.  SUMMEES  gave  due  attention  to 
the  course  of  study  as  prescribed  by 
the  Conference,  but  did  not  confine  himself  to 
the  subjects  embraced  therein.  He  had  al- 
ready perused  Wesley's  Sermons,  Watson's 
Institutes  (j6.rst  part),  Fletcher's  Works,  and 
Clarke's  Commentary.  He  was  well  acquainted 
with  Methodist  history.  In  addition  to  the 
histories  by  Whitehead,  Watson,  and  Southey, 
he  had  conversed  freely  with  old  preachers  in 
England  and  America  who  furnished  him  with 
historical  incidents  which  they  had  personally 
witnessed.  He  had  had  instruction  only  in 
English,  but  he  had  sought  to  be  thorough  in 
that.  He  spoke  his  vernacular  with  accuracy, 
elegance,  and  vigor.  He  was  free  from  the 
provincialisms  of  the  English,  whether  of  the 
Yorkshireman  or  the  Cockney,  and  laughed 
heartily  at  their  blunders. 

It  was  early  his  purpose  to  become  acquainted 

(63) 


64  Dh.  Summers. 


with  the  Greek  language,  and  to  qualify  him- 
self for  Biblical  criticism.  This  purpose  he 
pursued  with  unwearying  tenacity.  It  was  his 
bent — he  could  not  do  otherwise.  On  the 
journey  from  the  Conference  to  Augusta  Cir- 
cuit (before  described),  he  devoted  part  of  the 
first  day  to  the  use  of  Parkhurst's  Greek  Lex- 
icon— and  this  he  repeated  each  day  following. 
It  has  often  been  asked.  How  did  Summers 
obtain  his  knowledge  of  the  ancient  languages 
and  his  vast  fund  of  accurate  knowledge  of  a 
general  character?  We  have  the  answer:  He 
had  a  genius  for  acquisition  of  this  sort,  and 
genius  drives  to  its  object  over  all  impediments. 

At  this  time  he  was  much  occupied  with 
Methodist  hymnology,  with  which  even  then  he 
was  well  versed,  and  in  which  he  excelled  all 
others. 

Staunton,  though  detached  from  his  circuit, 
was  on  the  way  to  his  appointments,  and  here 
he  would  halt  in  his  rides.  He  found  there  a 
true  friend  and  sterling  Methodist  in  Adam 
Lushbaugh,  in  whose  hospitable  family  he 
found  every  thing  needful  for  his  own  comfort, 


NoRVAL  Wilson.  65. 

and  in  wliose  well-kept  stable  his  horse  was 
well  cared  for.  In  Staunton,  also,  was  the  home 
of  the  presiding  elder,  the  Eev.  Nerval  Wil- 
son, to  whom  he  often  went  to  consult  with 
reference  to  the  work  on  his  circuit. 

Mr.  Wilson  discerned  the  true  quality  of 
young  Summers,  and  became  his  Avarm  and 
lasting  friend.  They  were  frequently  together. 
Under  such  training  the  mind  of  Summers 
was  confirmed  in  its  clear-cut  Arminianism; 
his  soul  bloomed  out  in  experience  of  the  gen- 
uine Wesley  an  type;  and  his  devotional  habits 
were  formed  on  the  high  model  of  the  men  of 
God  like  Wilson  and  others  of  that  day  whose 
reverend  presence  and  holy  lives  clothed  them 
with  apostolic  power,  and  always  caused  them 
to  triumph  in  Christ,  and  make  manifest  the 
savor  of  his  knowledge  by  them  in  every  place. 

Nerval  Wilson  was  one  of  the  foremost  men 
of  the  Methodism  of  that  time.  He  was  of 
an  eminent  Presbyterian  family,  of  the  stur- 
dy Scotch-Irish  stock,  who  had  cherished  the 
faith  of  their  fathers,  and  been  true  to  the 
covenant.     He  was  born  in  Morgantown,  Mo- 


CO  DlL  SUMMEIiS. 


nongahela  county ,Virginia.  His  father,  Thom- 
as Wilson,  a  lawyer  of  gieat  ability,  had  been 
a  representative  in  the  State  Legislature,  and 
also  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States. 
Thus  descended,  Norval  Wilson  had  the  full- 
est advantages  of  education  and  social  position 
and  culture.  He  was  converted  at  a  camp- 
meeting  in  1819.  His  conversion  was  of  the 
type  peculiar  to  those  times — a  thorough  re- 
molding of  the  man,  his  soul  fused  in  the 
white  heat  of  pentecostal  fires.  His  religious 
development  was  rapid  and  sustained.  He  im- 
mediately united  with  the  Methodist  Church, 
and  very  soon  was  licensed  as  a  preacher  and 
received  on  trial  in  the  Baltimore  Conference. 
He  was  a  diligent  learner,  and  in  all  the  varied 
work  assigned  him — from  the  rough  mountain 
circuit  to  the  station  in  Baltimore,  or  the  pre- 
siding eldership  of  the  Baltimore  District  —he 
continued  to  be  the  toiling  student,  thirsting 
for  knowledge.  As  a  preacher,  he  was  remark- 
ably endowed.  In  intellectual  strength,  aptness 
of  illustration,  and  majesty  of  voice,  he  was  a 
man  of  mark.     In  the  groat  mental  power  and 


NoiiVAL    WiLSOX.  67 

eloquence  of  his  son,  the  Rev.  Alpheus  W.  Wil- 
son, now  a  bishop  o£  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  South,  we  have  a  strong  resemblance 
to  the  father.  Besides  his  rare  pulpit  ability 
and  treasures  of  knowledge  from  extensive 
reading,  Norval  Wilson  was  remarkable  for 
his  deep  spirituality,  his  self-abnegation,  his 
simplicity  and  humility.  Of  his  personnel,  one 
who  knew  him  well  has  said:  "His  tall,  slen- 
der, slightly  stooping  figure;  his  thin  and  fur- 
rowed face;  his  strongly  marked  features;  his 
fine  eyes — clear,  restful,  penetrating,  the  mir- 
ror of  an  honest  soul;  his  tremulous  gait— 
these  are  all  before  us  now.  Nor  is  it  difficult 
to  recall  his  rich,  sonorous  voice,  calm  in  com- 
mon discourse,  quivering  with  intensity  of 
conviction  as  he  preached  the  gospel,  and  at 
times  penetrating  to  the  very  soul,  as  he  man- 
ifested the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin,  fitly  ut- 
tering that  Word  which  '  pierces  to  the  divid- 
ing asunder  of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and  is 
a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the 
heart.'"  (Samuel  Eodgers,  D.D.,  Baltimore 
Conference.) 


68  Db.  Summers. 


Another,  well  qualified,  gives  us  these  touch- 
es concerning  Mr.  Wilson:  "When  I  sat  down 
to  reproduce  to  my  own  mind  that  wonderful 
harmony  of  parts  which  from  the  pulpit  had 
so  mastered  and  stirred  my  heart  in  Light 
Street  Church,  and  all  the  goodly  people  who 
worshiped  there,  I  found  that  I  could  call  up  the 
impression,  the  commanding  form,  the  weighty 
manner,  the  even,  ever- flowing  utterance,  the 
full,  round  speech,  but  scarcely  any  thing  suf- 
ficiently accurate  to  be  of  worth  as  respects 
the  preacher  himself,  I  thought  then  that, 
taking  him  altogether,  he  was  the  first  among 
the  many  effective  men  who  were  planting 
Methodism  in  Baltimore. 

"  When  the  General  Conference  of  1866  con- 
vened in  this  city,  I  was  carious  to  see  and 
hear  him  again,  that  I  might  compare  him 
with  my  memory  of  him  in  his  zenith.  He  con- 
cluded a  service  in  Carondelet  Street  Church 
with  prayer.  I  recollected  what  a  man  of 
prayer  he  used  to  be,  and  listened.  The  first 
sentence  of  all  the  sentences— for  they  flowed 
as  a  river  of  God — was  full  of  soul,  of  spirit- 


Picture  by  Bishop  Keener.  69 

ual  light,  and  appealing  power.  The  words  of 
Scripture,  and  the  words  of  a  man  who  knows 
God,  poured  upward  in  their  mighty  conflu- 
ence. Faith  strengthened  every  conception. 
Nothing  common  or  feeble  found  place  there. 
There  was  a  gradual  and  steady  closing  up  of 
heaven  and  earth,  until  all,  the  every  thought 
and  sentiment,  mingled  in  a  sense  of  fellow- 
ship and  high  communion  with  the  Father  of 
our  spirits.  His  words  were  more  than  half 
inspired.  The  Spirit's  grace  had  permeated 
his  brain,  and  choice  of  words  and  the  nice 
sense  which  he  had  of  the  finer  resources  of 
speech  were  used  to  kindle  every  faculty  of 
the  inner  man  into  a  glowing  devotion. 

"He  was  blessed  with  the  ability  to  weigh 
Avords  to  an  uncommon  degree,  but  nothing  in 
his  manner  gave  intimation  of  the  process,  for 
he  spoke  with  much  ease,  and  never  wanted 
the  exact  word — no,  not  for  an  instant.  It  fell 
into  place  as  coins  from  the  mint.  His  regu- 
lar movement  of  speech  was  not  disturbed  by 
warmth  of  sentiment,  but  in  the  most  impas- 
sioned moment  of  his  discourse  there  Avas  a 


70  Dr.  Summers. 


rhythmic  march  that  gave  unity  to  the  whole, 
and  wielded  it  with  unrelenting  force.  His 
rate  of  speed  never  surpassed  his  thought,  and 
in  this  he  was  not  unlike  another  great  pulpit 
orator  of  the  same  city  and  period — the  Rev. 
])r.  Stockt4)u. 

"His  strength  lay  in  a  sound,  unambitious 
treatment  of  his  theme,  holding  to  the  middle 
current  of  evangelical  exegesis.  He  vitalized 
and  reproduced  the  original  power  of  those 
formulas  of  death  and  life  which  hold  eternitj 
in  their  syllables.  There  were  in  the  Script 
ures  of  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament  all  tlu 
words  of  ai'gument,  tnith,  or  illustration  thai 
he  needed,  and  as  I  remember  he  rarely  went 
outside  of  the  Bible  for  matter.  The  unction 
of  the  Holy  One  was  his  aflflatus,  and  there  re- 
mained to  his  audience  no  room  for  criticism. 
His  perorations  were  an  abandon  of  spiritual 
and  mental  power  in  fullest  sympathy  ^ath  the 
truth,  and  with  those  to  whom  he  delivered  it, 
subdued  by  the  habitual  reverence  of  his  soul 
for  his  Lord  and  Master.  They  seemed  to  me 
irresistible.     I  was  then  scarcely  a  member  of 


A  Peculiar  Fbiexdship.  71 


the  Church,  and  but  imperfectly  appreciated 
the  privilege  of  hearing  so  great  a  preacher." 
(Bishop  J.  C.  Keener,  New  Orleans,  1877.) 

A  peculiar  friendship  sprung  up  between 
this  massive,  finely-wrought,  and  godly  presid- 
ing elder  and  Summers.  Strong  in  his  con- 
victions and  abundant  in  will-power,  fond  of 
discussion  with  select  friends  as  a  means  of 
improvement,  Mr.  Wilson  took  pleasure  in 
rousing  the  earnest,  persistent  young  preacher 
to  the  exercise  of  his  argumentative  powers. 
Though  he  might  feel  himself  beaten,  Sum- 
mers gave  no  sign  that  he  was  aware  of  it,  but 
would  "read  up"  on  the  controverted  topic, 
and  renew  the  contest  the  first  opportunity. 
The  gifted,  cultured  presiding  elder  and  the 
inquisitive,  studious  young  preacher  coidd  not 
meet  without  a  discussion  on  some  topic. 
These  friendly  but  spirit,  i  tilts  furnished  ex- 
cellent gymnastics  for  the  j'oung  and  ardent 
polemic,  and  were  relished  by  his  wise  and 
gentle  senior,  who  would  smilingly  tell  him  to 
read  more  until  their  next  meeting,  and  then 
come  "and  again  get  beaten."     But  Summers 


72  Du.  a  V MM E Its. 


never  felt  that  he  was  beaten  in  an  argument — 
that  feeling  was  foreign  to  his  temperament. 

The  presiding  elder's  office,  so  valuable  to 
the  Church,  and  for  which  no  substitute  has 
been  found,  would  be  doubly  valuable  if  always 
filled  by  such  men  as  Norval  Wilson.  The 
Conferences  that  put  their  best  men  into  this 
work  are  the  ones  that  exhibit  the  highest  re- 
sults in  the  development  of  ministerial  char- 
acter, and  in  the  substantial  prosperity  and 
progress  of  the  Church.  The  providence  that 
brought  Summers  into  official  relation  and 
personal  association  with  Norvad  Wilson  was 
a  most  fortunate  thing  for  him  and  for  the 
Church. 

Protracted  meetings  were  held  that  year  at 
most  of  the  appointments.  Some  conversions 
followed.  This  greatly  encouraged  the  young 
circuit  preacher.  He  had  not  time,  as  some 
now  do,  to  preach  preparation  sermons  through 
three  weeks,  "  to  get  the  Church  right,  before 
calling  up  mourners."  With  twenty-five  ap- 
pointments on  the  circuit,  he  could  only  preach, 
invite  to  the  altar  and  if  any  came  forward  for 


The  ''Now"  Preachers.  73 

prayers,  offer  to  continue  the  meeting;  but  if 
none  came,  lie  could  not  stay  "to  hammer  on 
cold  iron."  Preachers  were  then  called  the 
"  now ' '  preachers.  The  word  was  preached  and 
driven  home  by  earnest  exhortation.  If  some 
wanted  a  long  time  to  consider,  they  were  left 
for  the  brethren  to  pray  over  and  labor  with, 
and  if  not  previously  converted,  the  preacher 
tried  to  reach  them  when  he  came  again. 

A  camp-meeting  was  held  that  year  on  his 
circuit — a  new  thing  to  Summers.  Among  the 
preachers  present,  were  Norval  Wilson,  A.  A. 
Eskridge,  J.  S.  Martin,  and  J.  H.  Linn. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AT    CONFERENCE. 

C~ONFEIlENCE  approached;  the  finances 
were  much  in  arrears.  Summers  was 
told  it  was  necessary  that  he  should  "  bend  his 
energies  to  bring  the  circuit  out."  He  could 
not  understand  why  people  should  require  so 
much  stirring  up  to  pay  a  little  "  quarterage." 
Now  came  the  tim«  to  preach  farewell  ser- 
mons on  the  last  round— for  then  no  young 
man  was  so  presumptuous  as  to  expect  to  re- 
tui'n  the  second  year.  Although  there  had 
been  only  one  preacher  on  Augusta  Circuit, 
and  his  claim  only  one  hundred  dollars,  yet  it 
could  not  be  made  up.  Summers  realized 
about  eighty  dollars,  and  his  presiding  elder 
forty  dollars— one  hundred  and  twenty  dollars 
in  all,  raised  from  four  hundred  members.  On 
the  same  field  now,  from  an  equal  number  of 
members,  two  thousand  five  hundred  dol- 
lars are  raised,  yet  the  circumstances  of  the 
members  are  not  much  better,  if  any.  Were 
(71) 


Conference  at  Baltimore.  75 

"the  former  days  better  than  these?"  His 
traveling  companion — ^Martin — on  his  journey 
back  met  him  at  Mt.  Sidney^  and  tliey  jour- 
neyed together  again  over  the  same  road, 
through  snow  or  mud  to  Conference. 

Conference  met  in  Baltimore.  Bishop  Hed- 
ding  presided.  The  place  of  meeting  was  in 
the  "Old  Conference -room,"  which  was  in  a 
building  in  the  rear  of  "  Light  Street  Church." 
The  lower  part  was  used  for  a  parsonage  for 
the  preacher  in  charge  of  the  "city  station" — ■ 
the  third  story  over  the  parsonage  was  used 
for  a  Conference-room,  with  committee-rooms 
adjoining  in  the  same  story.  Here  Conference 
was  always  held  when  assembled  in  Baltimore. 
Here  Asbury  had  met  the  Conference  at  an 
earlier  time,  dispatched  its  business,  read  the 
Appointments,  and  just  after  reading  descend- 
ed to  the  side  alley  below,  where  his  horse 
was  waiting.  Quickly  mounting,  he  rapidly 
rode  beyond  "Baltimore  town,"  before  any  dis- 
satisfied preacher  could  come  to  him  for  a 
change  in  his  appointment,  and  where  his 
pest -office   could    not   soon   be   known;    the 


76  Dr.  Summers. 


lumbering,  slow  mail  of  the  time  taking  many 
days  to  reach  him.  So  the  preaclier,  though 
complaining,  had  no  alternative  but  to  go  to 
his  work. 

In  this  room  Asbury,  McKendree,  Roberts, 
George,  and  Soule  had  presided  over  succes- 
sive Conferences.  In  it  also,  in  1808,  the  law 
was  changed  constituting  a  delegated  General 
Conference,  the  discussion  of  which  was  a 
"war  of  giants."  The  opposition  to  making 
the  General  Conference  a  delegated  body  was 
led  by  Wilson  Lee,  who  warned  the  elders  not 
to  part  with  their  original  right  of  meeting  as 
one  body.  The  very  spot  in  the  room  where 
he  stood  when  he  delivered  his  speech  was 
designated  and  long  venerated  by  those  who 
hated  the  remembrance  of  that  act  constitut- 
ing a  delegated  General  Conference.  The 
room  was  getting  too  strait  for  the  Conference, 
now  one  hundred  and  forty  in  number.  There 
was  little  room  for  spectators.  But  as  the  fa- 
thers then  did  not  think  they  needed  any  help 
from  the  outside,  they  preferred  in  their  select 
way  to  hold  the  sessions  tliere  as  in  former 


The  Men  of  Tha  t  Da  y.  11 

years — the  greater  part  of  the  time  with  closed 
doors,  particularly  in  the  examination  of  char- 
acter. The  Conference  thus  brought  together 
in  a  small  space  would  awaken  in  a  mind  like 
that  of  Summers  thoughts  more  self-search- 
ing than  if  in  a  larger  crowd  in  a  larger 
church. 

Elijah  Hedding  was  the  presiding  Bishop. 
Admitted  on  trial  in  1801,  he  was  now  in  his 
thirty-sixth  year  as  a  preacher.  Though  not 
strong  in  body  as  in  former  years,  he  was  yet 
of  noble  appearance,  impressive  in  all  his  ut- 
terances, and  much  respected  for  his  high 
Christian  character.  Such  a  man  fixed  the 
attention  of  Summers,  who  always  had  the 
gift  of  sincere  and  unenvious  admiration  of 
goodness  or  greatness. 

Some  of  the  superannuates  present — Joshua 
Wells,  William  Eyland,  and  Henry  Smith — 
referred  to  their  labors  in  rough  places,  dat- 
ing back  to  earlier  times  in  Methodist  history. 
The  letters  received  from  others — J.  G.  Watt, 
J.  Ronan,  John  Kobler — brought  up  the  re- 
membrance of  labors  in  the  wilderness,  and 


78  Dr.  Summers. 


sufferings  in  by-gone  days  that  only  served  to 
kindle  anew  the  ardor  of  those  then  entering 
upon  the  glorious  work  of  the  gospel  ministry. 

In  pulpit  efficiency,  in  administrative  abili- 
ty, in  all  the  great  qualities  needed  for  their 
office,  the  men  of  the  Baltimore  Conference 
then  on  the  effective  list  compared  favorably 
with  any  other  preachers  in  the  Connection. 

Alfred  Griffith  had  just  finished  his  fourth 
year  as  presiding  elder  on  the  Baltimore  Dis- 
trict. He  had  now  been  thirty  years  in  the 
work  —  a  man  of  great  thoughts,  a  strong 
preacher,  called  by  some  "the  gazeteer  of 
his  times."  He  was  born  in  Montgomery 
county,  Maryland,  March  16,  1783.  He  was 
converted  under  the  ministry  of  the  Rev.  John 
Potts  in  1801,  "during  a  revival  of  religion," 
as  the  record  puts  it.  His  first  sermon  was 
delivered  imder  the  following  circumstances. 
"With  other  people  of  his  neighborhood  he 
had  gathered  to  listen  to  a  sermon  to  be 
preached  by  a  certain  local  preacher.  For 
some  reason  the  expected  preacher  did  not 
appear,  and  after  waiting  for  some  time  some 


Alfred  Griffith.  79 

of  the  older  bretliren  went  to  Mr.  Griffith  and 
requested  him  to  conduct  the  services  and 
preach  to  the  people.  He  refused  to  do  this, 
pleading  his  youth,  his  ignorance,  his  timidity, 
and  his  want  of  a  divine  call,  as  reasons  why 
he  should  be  excused.  His  brethren  persist- 
ently urging  him  not  to  permit  the  congrega- 
tion to  disperse  without  an  exhortation,  he  at 
length  went  alone  to  the  forest,  which  was 
near,  to  ask  of  God  his  duty.  After  some  time 
spent  there  in  fervent  supplication  he  returned 
to  the  house,  and  immediately  entered  the 
pulpit.  What  transpired  there  he  was  never 
able  to  recall.  He  only  had  a  confused  mem- 
ory that  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  came 
upon  him,  and  that  the  authority  of  his  min- 
istry was  attested  by  mingled  groans  and  tears, 
and  cries  for  mercy,  and  loud  shouts  and  hal- 
leluiahs." At  a  quarterly-meeting  held  soon 
after  this  occurrence,  the  presiding  elder,  Kev. 
Enoch  George,  afterward  Bishop  George  of 
blessed  memory,  hearing  an  account  of  this 
remarkable  scene,  wrote  for  Mr,  Griffith  a  li- 
cense to  preach,  and  left  it  with  the  preacher 


80  Dlt.  SVMMEKS. 


in  charge  of  the  circuit.  He,  approaching  Mr. 
Griffith  one  day,  handed  the  paper  to  him, 
folded.  As  soon  as  he  had  opened  and  read 
the  paper  he  was  so  agitated  that  he  let  it  fall. 
The  preacher,  picking  it  up  and  handing  it 
again  to  him,  warned  him  against  slighting  a 
call  from  God.  At  a  Quarterly  Conference 
just  prior  to  the  Conference  held  in  Baltimore 
in  1806,  his  pastor,  the  Kev.  Gideon  Draper, 
presented  his  name  to  the  elder  for  recom- 
mendation for  admission  on  trial  in  the  trav- 
eling connection.  This,  it  seems,  was  entirely 
unexpected  by  Mr.  Griffith,  for  he  immediate- 
ly arose  and  began  to  plead  a  variety  of  rea- 
sons why  he  could  not  undertake  so  responsi- 
ble a  life-work.  Mr.  Draper,  springing  to  his 
feet,  cried  out,  "Flash  in  the  pan  if  you  dare. 
Brother  Griffith!  I  tell  you  you  must  preach, 
or  God  will  kill  you! "  So  Enoch  George  rec- 
ommended him,  and  he  was  received  on  trial 
in  the  Baltimore  Conference,  March  IG,  1806, 
being  at  that  time  just  twenty-three  years  of 
age.  The  ministry  thus  began  was  fearless, 
self-sacrificing,   fruitful    in   an   extraordinary 


Other  Preachers.  81 

degree.  As  a  preacher,  his  sermons  were  rich 
in  thought.  He  reasoned  with  mathematical 
exactness.  His  ideas  were  expressed  with  la- 
conic brevity  and  axiomatic  force.  He  dis- 
dained the  arts  of  cheap  pulpit  popularity,  but 
the  more  thoughtful  the  hearer  the  more  high- 
ly were  his  sermons  esteemed.  The  atmos- 
phere of  sanctity  surrounded  him,  and  the 
unction  of  the  Holy  One  rested  on  him.  He 
was  indeed  a  man  of  God,  and  God  was  with 
him. 

John  Davis  then  led  the  mind  of  the  Balti- 
more Conference.  He  was  a  man  of  great 
native  intellect,  a  strong  debater,  grave  yet 
most  winning.  S.  G.  Roszel,  once  the  strong 
man  of  the  Conference — a  preacher  of  amaz- 
ing power — was  now  failing  in  strength.  J. 
M.  Hanson,  who  stood  like  a  stone  wall  in 
earlier  times  in  Baltimore  against  innovators 
on  the  economy  of  the  Church,  had  ceased  to 
take  part  in  the  effective  ranks.  John  Bear, 
William  Prettyman,  and  Robert  Cadden,  pre- 
siding elders,  were  men  of  mark,  abundant  in 
labors.      Gerard  Morgan,  the  great  preacher 


82  Dn.  Summers. 


for  many  years  through  the  Valley  of  Virginia, 
had  just  served  on  the  Loudon  Circuit,  the 
grandest  circuit  or  appointment  of  any  kind  in 
the  Conference.  Other  strong  and  attractive 
preachers  of  some  years'  standing  were  there 
—  James  Sewell,  James  Reed,  Tobias  and 
James  Riley.  Among  a  class  of  preachers, 
younger  yet  gradually  ascending  in  influence 
above  the  old  men  just  named,  was  Henry 
Slicer,  whose  success  on  Potomac  District  had 
won  attention.  His  preaching  and  revival  la- 
bors, his  tact  and  fearlessness  in  debate,  his 
popular  manners  with  the  people,  yet  unyield- 
ing defense  of  Methodism,  placed  him  most 
prominent.  Opposite  to  him  on  most  ques- 
tions was  John  A.  Collins,  still  younger,  of 
still  higher  culture,  affluent  in  thought,  of 
strong  analytical  power,  yet  of  imagination 
most  fertile;  in  person  pleasing,  in  vocal  pow- 
er, grace  of  manner,  and  oratory  uuequaled 
in  the  Conference.  His  masterly  discourses 
of  two  hours'  length  at  camp-meetings  held 
congregations  spell-bound.  Yet  he  was  a  man 
often  uneven  in  temper,  subject  to  fearful  de- 


The  Younger  Men.  83 

pressions,  which  marred  the  symmetry  of  his 
character.  But  when  the  Conference  need- 
ed a  strong  advocate  he  was  looked  to;  and  if 
on  the  side  of  right,  he  was  invincible.  His 
position  at  the  General  Conference  in  1844 
was  not  the  choice  of  his  feelings  or  judg- 
ment—circumstances controlled  him  irre- 
pressibly — and  his  great  powers  shone  not  as 
they  would  have  done  if  he  had  been  on  the 
other  side,  and  more  in  accord  with  the  peo- 
ple he  represented. 

Besides,  there  was  in  that  Conference,  bet- 
ter known  in  the  Church,  South,  Thomas  B. 
Sargent,  for  whom  Dr.  Summers  in  after-life 
and  till  his  death  cherished  such  strong 
affection.  Then  there  sat  in  that  Conference 
others  still  younger,  yet  who  in  the  future 
became  the  leading  men  of  the  body — N.  J. 
B.  Morgan,  E.  E.  Vietch,  J.  A.  Gore,  G.  G. 
Brooke,  John  Poisal,  C.  B.  Tippett,  and  others 
since  passed  away.  Of  the  Conference  then 
of  one  hundred  and  forty,  now,  after  the  lapse 
of  forty-seven  years,  only  four  in  the  Balti- 
more Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 


84  Dr.  SuMMEiis. 


Church  remain,  and  only  six  in  the  Baltimore 
Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
South. 

This  Conference  in  which  young  Summers 
took  his  seat  for  the  first  time  as  a  probation- 
er Avas  a  strong  body,  in  numbers  equal  to  any 
other  in  the  Connection. 

All  the  business  of  the  Conference  was  of 
interest  to  young  Summers.  Unlike  some 
young  probationers,  who  at  first  see  at  Confer- 
ence nothing  to  interest  them,  and  spend  their 
time  at  the  door  or  in  the  basement,  Summers 
found  interest  and  pleasure  in  every  debate. 
The  Baltimore  Conference  then  had  more 
speech  -  making  and  took  a  much  longer  time 
in  doing  little  else  than  examining  character 
than  it  does  now.  He  was  there  to  learn.  In 
the  examination  of  character  then  each  preach- 
er was  subjected  to  a  thorough  scrutiny.  At 
the  call  of  his  name  he  walked  out  of  tlie 
house.  The  presiding  elder  first  spoke  to  the 
case,  then  his  colleague,  then  the  preachers 
•who  had  traveled  near  to  him  felt  at  liberty 
to  speak.    Then  some  brother  who  had  been 


Examination  of  Character.  85 

•with  him  at  camp-meeting.  Thus,  sometimes 
at  least  half  an  hour  was  spent  over  a  single 
name.  If  there  was  any  thing  good,  it  was 
sure  to  be  brought  out;  if  there  was  anywhere 
the  "  smell  of  fire  "  on  him,  it  was  sure  to  be 
scented. 

The  time  approached  for  the  call  of  the  sec- 
ond question,  "  Who  remain  on  trial  ?  "  Among 
others,  the  name  of  Thomas  O.  Summers  was 
called.  This  to  him  was  a  trying  time.  The 
representation  of  his  gifts  and  usefulness  as  a 
laborer  on  the  Augusta  Circuit  was  freely  made 
by  his  presiding  elder.  That  was  not  sufficient 
for  old  men  like  Eoszel  and  Wells,  who  watched 
closely  with  others  whether  any  improper 
young  man  should  get  into  the  body,  anA  ques- 
tions were  freely  propounded  as  to  his  health 
and  willingness  to  endure  hardship;  whether 
any  souls  had  been  converted  on  his  circuit; 
whether  he  observed  private  prayer,  published 
and  observed  the  fast  on  Friday  before  quar- 
terly-meeting; met  the  classes  after  preaching, 
catechised  the  children,  preached  to  the  Ne- 
groes, was  punctual  to  his  appointments,  plain 


86  Dr.  Summers. 


in  his  dress,  and  was  particular  to  "  talk  spar- 
ingly with  women"  as  the  Discipline  required; 
and  wliether  he  got  up  in  time  so  as  not  to 
keep  the  people  waiting  for  breakfast.  To  all 
these  questions,  severally  put  by  as  many  aged 
veterans  who  had  been  passed  through  that 
mill — some  not  without  "scratching" — Norval 
AViloon,  with  a  grim  smile  upon  his  stern  Ro- 
man face,  answered  in  the  affirmative;  and  then 
with  a  look  and  tone  implying  that  those  aged 
inquisitors  were  bent  on  needless  questions,  he 
respectfully  asked  whether  his  "  aged  brethren 
needed  more  information  about  the  young 
man."  After  a  pause,  the  question  then  turned 
particularly  on  his  examination  before  the 
Comtfiittee  on  the  Course  of  Study  prescribed 
by  the  General  Conference,  and  that  super- 
added by  the  Annual  Conference  itself.  The 
first  had  been  drawn  up  by  Bishop  Emory,  and 
was  hard  enough,  some  judged,  yet  the  Confer- 
ence added  more  to  it— at  least  advisory,  if  not 
mandatory. 

Some  who  now  complain  of  the  hardness  of 
the  present  Course  of  Study  may  be  surprised 


Rigid  Requirements.  87 


to  learn  that  the  course  exacted  by  the  Balti- 
more Conference  at  the  time  Summers  ap- 
peared before  the  committee  was  as  extensive 
on  every  thing  relating  to  Biblical  study, 
Methodist  doctrine,  discipline,  Church  history, 
and  almost  every  thing  else,  as  is  required  now 
in  the  course  published  by  the  Bishops.  In 
this  respect,  Baltimore  then  stood  almost  alone 
in  the  Quarterly  Conferences,  many  of  them 
large  bodies.  The  examination  preparatory  to 
granting  license  was  very  rigid — more  so  than 
now.  The  presiding  elder  was  apt  to  magnify 
his  office.  In  the  Baltimore  City  Station,  so 
far  was  this  rigidness  carried  that  a  young 
man  applying  for  exhorter's  license  was  first 
subjected  to  a  prescribed  course  of  study,  and 
after  the  examination,  if  successful,  he  Avas 
granted  "verbal  license"  for  six  months;  after 
which  he  was  examined  again,  and  if  he  passed 
he  was  "licensed  in  full."  Then  for  license 
to  preach  he  was  subjected  to  still  further  ex- 
amination, and  then  another  when  he  came  up 
for  recommendation  to  the  Annual  Conference. 
Under  such  stimulation  from  the  Quarterly 


88  Dr.  Summers. 


Conferences,  the  Annual  Conference  was  urged 
forward  to  the  adoption  of  a  Course  of  Study 
far  beyond  what  had  been  required  by  the 
General  Conference,  or  that  required  by  other 
Annual  Conferences. 


CHAPTER  X. 

BALTIMORE  AND  WEST  RIVER-A  MISSIONARY  CALL. 

AT  the  close  of  liis  second  year,  Mr.  Sum- 
mers went  up  to  Baltimore  to  attend  the 
Annual  Conference  (March,  1837).  He  was 
ordained  deacon,  and  appointed  to  the  Balti- 
more City  Station,  with  Griffith,  Dorsey,  Mc- 
Gee,  and  Kichardson  as  his  colleagues.  The 
venerable  Joseph  Frye  was  supernumerary  at 
the  same  station.  The  names  of  these  men 
bring  before  us  vividly  those  times  when  Meth- 
odism in  all  that  region  was  militant,  glowing 
and  growing.  During  the  two  years  he  was  in 
Baltimore,  he  tells  us  that  "revivals  were  going 
on  all  the  time."  Hundreds  of  converts  were 
brought  into  the  Church.  He  threw  himself 
into  the  work  with  all  his  might,  exhibiting  ac- 
tivity and  endurance  that  were  surprising.  It 
is  said  of  him  at  this  time  that  "  he  w:as  spe- 
cially zealous  in  attending  to  Sunday-schools, 
Bible-classes,  disciplinary  and  temperance  so- 
cieties.    He  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  visit  his 

(SO) 


90  Dr.  Summebs. 


flock  from  house  to  house — a  laborious  task — 
and  at  the  same  time  to  lose  no  opportunity 
to  improve  his  mind  and  fit  himself  more 
fully  for  his  pulpit  labors."  He  was  at  the 
same  time  a  student  and  a  revivalist,  and  his 
mental  and  pastoral  development  was  rapid 
and  also  healthful.  He  was  brought  in 
contact  with  many  of  the  leading  men  of  the 
Church,  and  from  them  he  learned  all  he 
could  concerning  its  history  and  economy. 
Like  a  sponge,  his  mind  absorbed  all  that 
touched  it  from  every  quarter,  whether  from 
men  or  books.  And  so  it  happened  that  Sum- 
mers, as  a  self-taught  student  of  theology, 
language,  and  general  literature,  made  prog- 
ress so  rapid  that  he  was  an  astonishment  to 
his  brethren.  It  seemed  as  if  he  could  visit 
all  day,  work  in  a  revival  meeting  until  near 
midnight,  read  nearly  all  the  remainder  of  the 
night,  and  then  rise  next  day  fresh,  pushing, 
and  exuberant  as  ever.  He  was  indomitable 
and  irrepressible,  ready  for  every  good  word 
and  work — a  working  man  and  a  growing  man 
in  the  full  sense  of  the  word.     During  these 


West  River.  91 


two  years,  the  development  of  his  religious 
opinions,  habits,  and  character  continued  un- 
der the  most  favorable  circumstances,  and  the 
foundations  were  laid  of  that  wide  and  accurate 
knowledge  for  which  he  became  so  distin- 
guished in  after  years.  But  his  too  excessive 
labors  began  to  tell  on  him  at  last,  and  it  was 
well  for  him  that  his  time  in  Baltimore  was 
nearly  out. 

At  the  end  of  his  two  years'  term  in  Balti- 
more, he  was  appointed  to  the  West  River  Cir- 
cuit— "  the  very  place  he  would  have  chosen," 
he  says.  It  was  about  forty  miles  from  Bal- 
timore, near  Annapolis,  on  the  Chesapeake. 
His  colleague  was  the  Rev.  C.  B.  Young.  His 
principal  home  was  at  the  house  of  his  excel- 
lent friend  Dr.  J.  S.  Owens.  The  Doctor  and 
his  wife  completely  won  his  admiration  and 
regard. 

West  River  Circuit  was  a  pleasant  field  of 
labor  to  Summers.  The  work  was  compara- 
tively light,  the  circuit  being  the  most  compact 
in  the  Conference.  The  salt  breezes  from  the 
billowy  Chesapeake  reminded  him  of,  his  own 


92  Dr.  Summers. 


Purbeck,  and  imparted  new  vigor  to  his  body, 
worn  down  by  two  years  of  city  station  work. 
The  Owenses  gave  him  a  liome  where  he  could 
unbend  and  rest  and  read,  and  the  kind  peo- 
ple fed  him  on  the  best  that  the  "Eastern 
Shore,"  with  its  succulent  oysters,  delicate 
sora,  savory  shad,  and  other  special  luxuries 
of  the  table,  could  furnish.  He  recruited  rap- 
idly, and  went  to  and  fro  on  his  little  circuit 
with  unwonted  energy,  preaching  with  power, 
and  mixing  with  the  people  in  his  own  pecul- 
iar way,  vnih.  ready  reproof  for  the  erring,  but 
the  heartiest  good -will  for  all,  and  readiest 
sympathy  for  the  sorrowing  and  the  suffering. 
While  he  was  recovering  his  strength  and 
building  up  his  work,  an  incident  occurred  that 
came  near  ending  his  career.  In  company  with 
his  friends  Drs.  Owens  and  Petherbridge  he 
had  attended  the  laying  of  the  foundation  of 
a  church  in  Calvert  county,  and  had  delivered 
an  address  on  the  occasion.  Nothing  had  oc- 
curred to  excite  his  mind  unduly  during  the 
day;  yet  a  little  after  midnight  he  sprung  from 
the  bed,  where  Dr.  Petherbridge  was  sleeping  by 


A  Wild  Leap.  93 

his  side,  rushed  to  the  window,  lifted  the  sash, 
and  sprung  out!  It  was  a  great  jump  he  made, 
reaching  the  ground  at  a  distance  of  eighteen 
feet  perpendicular  and  sixteen  fee^  projectile. 
The  two  physicians  were  instantly  at  his  side. 
Though  he  was  very  badly  hurt,  his  mind  was 
not  affected.  He  asked  to  be  taken  back  to  his 
bed,  where  upon  examination  they  found  that 
the  right  forearm  was  broken  and  the  wrist 
sprained,  his  right  foot  broken  and  the  joint 
sprained;  and,  it  was  thought,  the  spinal  cord 
broken  also.  The  doctors  gave  significant  hints 
to  each  other  that  the  injuries  were  mortal. 
He  told  them  to  conceal  nothing;  he  was  pre- 
pared to  hear  the  worst.  They  told  him  they 
feared  that  in  a  few  minutes  he  must  die.  We 
let  him  tell  in  his  own  words  how  this  affected 
him: 

My  mind  instantly  laid  hold  of  the  great  fundamentals 
of  Christianity,  as  if  to  feel  whether  or  not  I  could  find 
solid  bottom  in  crossing  the  flood  of  death.  All  was  riglit. 
Filled  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,  I  could  say, 

I  feel  the  bliss  thy  wounds  impart, 
I  find  thee,  Saviour,  in  my  heart. 

Tears  of  gratitude  started  from  my  eyes.     I  could  then 


94  Db.   SUMMEIiS. 


easily  have  died.    That  hour  of  bodily  anguish  was  the 
happiest  of  ray  life. 

I  presently  realized  certain  motions  which  I  knew  de- 
pended on  the  integrity  of  the  spinal  column,  and  stated 
the  fact  to  my  "medical  friends,  who  greatly  rejoiced.  The 
words  of  the  psalmist  were  impressed  on  my  mind:  "I  shall 
not  die,  but  live  and  declare  the  works  of  the  Lord.  The 
Lord  hath  chastened  rae  sore,  but  he  hath  not  given  me 
over  unto  death." 

For  weeks  he  lay  in  great  suflfering,  part  of 
the  time  not  able  to  be  moved  at  all.  After  the 
broken  bones  were  knit  together  and  his  back 
somewhat  restored — the  splints  and  the  plaster 
still  on  him— he  was  carried  to  the  churches, 
where  in  this  condition  he  preached  to  the  peo- 
ple. Their  kind  hearts  were  touched,  their 
sympathies  were  drawn  forth,  their  attentions 
were  unremitting,  and  their  prayers  for  him 
were  fervent. 

But  tlie  good  people  on  West  River  were  a- 
little  suspicious  oE  their  too  agile  pastor.  He 
noticed  that  the  windows  in  the  rooms  where 
he  slept  from  time  to  time  were  securely  nailed 
dowii,  so  that  if  ho  should  have  another  terri- 
fying dream,  and  should  wish  to  make  his 


The  Texas  Fever.  95 

escape  by  the  window,  such  a  mode  of  egress 
might  be  prevented. 

From  the  effects  of  that  leap  from  his  bed- 
room window  he  never  fully  recovered,  though 
to  the  casual  observer  his  tough  and  elastic 
constitution  showed  little  trace  of  the  injur}'- 
received. 

From  the  time  that  Dr.  Ruter  went  to  Texas, 
Mr.  Summers  felt  an  interest  in  that  new  mis- 
sion-field. The  gallant  and  successful  strug- 
gle of  the  Texans  for  independence;  the  ro- 
mantic halo  around  the  names  of  Houston, 
Crockett,  Fanning,  Travis,  and  their  compa- 
triots; the  vastness  of  the  territory  of  the  new 
republic,  and  the  certainty  of  its  future  great- 
ness— all  these  considerations  had  affected  the 
popular  imagination,  and  Texas  was  in  every- 
body's thought  and  speech.  The  adventurous 
flocked  thither,  drawn  by  the  fascination  of 
novelty  and  danger;  the  unfortunate  sought  it 
in  hope  of  mending  their  broken  fortunes;  and 
some  who  had  overstepped  the  boundaries  of 
the  law,  and  of  social  good  standing,  fled  to 
hide  their  shame  and  make  a  fresh  start  for 


96  Dr.  Summers. 


better  living  amid  new  associations;  or,  if  hard- 
ened in  viciousness,  to  give  themselves  up  to 
the  license  of  frontier  life. 

He  was  always  responsive  to  popular  excite- 
ments, and  now  he  caught  the  Texas  fever. 
Loud  calls  were  made  at  this  time  (1839) 
for  missionaries  to  that  field,  and  he  informed 
Bishop  Waugh  that  he  was  willing  to  go  if 
no  one  else  would.  The  Bishop  thought  that 
work  would  be  too  rough  for  him,  and  told 
him  if  he  was  willing  to  be  a  missionary  he 
had  better  go  to  Buenos  Ayres,  begging  him 
to  think  and  pray  seriously  about  it.  He  did 
so;  and  after  mature  thought  and  earnest 
prayer,  he  told  the  Bishop  he  was  willing  to 
go.  Whereupon  the  Bishop  appointed  him  to 
Buenos  Ayres  for  ten  years,  the  Board  of  Man- 
agers of  the  Missionary  Society  appro\'ing  the 
appointment. 

The  winter  following  he  spent  in  Washing- 
ton City.  After  preaching  one  morning  at  the 
Foundry,  a  brother  remarked,  "So,  you  are 
going  to  Texas?" 

"No;  to  South  America,"  was  the  reply. 


A  Providential  Turn.  97 

"You  are  appointed  to  Galveston,"  rejoined 
the  brother. 

"No;  to  Buenos  Ayres." 

"Well,"  said  the  brother,  "I  saw  your  name 
published  in  the  Western  Christian  Advocate,  in 
connection  with  the  Texas  Mission." 

Stepping  into  Dr.  Se wall's,  they  found  the 
paper,  which  gave  the  appointment  as  the 
brother  had  stated.  A  day  or  two  after,  the 
mystery  was  explained  in  a  letter  from  Bishop 
Waugh,  who  had  written  to  Bishop  Andrew 
that  Mr.  Summers  was  willing  to  go  on  a  mis- 
sion, without  stating  that  he  had  already  ap- 
pointed him  to  one.  The  latter  Bishop,  pre- 
siding at  the  Mississippi  Conference,  wanted  a 
man  for  Galveston,  and  without  ceremony  put 
Summers  down  for  that  place.  Bishop  AVaugh 
left  him  to  decide  between  the  two  appoint- 
ments. He  chose  Galveston,  believing  that 
Providence  pointed  that  way. 

Tlifi  next  session  of  the  Baltimore  Confer- 
ence was  held  in  Georgetown,  March,  1840. 
The  Rev.  George  G.  Cookman  was  then  sta- 
tioned in  Washington  City.    He  had  been  from 


98  Dr.  Summers. 


tbeir  first  meeting  the  fast  friend  of  Suramere, 
and  now  prevailed  on  liim  with  two  other 
brethren  to  speak  at  his  missionary  meeting 
in  Wesley  Chapel.  The  Rev.  Eobert  Emory 
(since  Dr.  Emory,  President  oE  Dickinson  Col- 
lege, whose  early  death  sent  a  pang  of  sorrow 
through  the  Church)  was  one  of  the  speakers. 
He  advocated  the  claims  of  South  America. 
The  Rev.  J.-M.  Jones,  who  was  bom  in  En- 
gland and  educated  in  France  for  the  priest- 
hood, and  was  converted  from  popery  at  a 
camp-meeting,  was  another  speaker.  He  ad- 
vocated the  claims  of  France,  to  which  country 
he  wished  to  be  sent  as  a  missionary.  Sum- 
mers, whose  heart  was  fired  with  enthusiasm 
for  Texas,  was  the  third  speaker,  and  he  made 
an  urgent  plea  for  that  opening  field.  The 
climax  of  the  meeting  was  reached  in  the  clos- 
ing speech  by  Cookman,  who  swept  the  chords 
of  the  hearts  of  the  audience  with  extraordi- 
nary poAver. 

The  memory  of  Cookman  lingers  in  the 
Church  like  the  dying  cadences  of  a  sweet 
strain  of  music.     Light  and  graceful  in  form, 


George  C.  Cookman.  99 

with  keen,  bright  eyes,  sharp,  clear-cut  feat- 
ures, a  spiritual  face,  clear,  sonorous  voice, 
bold  and  startling  imagery,  and  glowing  soul, 
with  a  mind  active  and  cultured,  he  was  a 
great  preacher.  But  it  was  as  a  platform 
speaker  that  he  reached  the  highest  point  of 
effectiveness.  He  was  one  of  the  many  En- 
glishmen providentially  directed  to  this  coun- 
try for  special  service  in  the  cause  of  Christ. 
He  was  born  in  Yorkshire  in  1800.  In  1821 
he  came  to  America  on  business,  and  while 
here  was  impressed  that  he  ought  to  preach 
the  gospel.  On  his  return  voyage  to  England 
the  vessel  was  caught  in  a  fearful  storm. 
When  all  hope  seemed  to  be  lost,  the  convic- 
tion flashed  across  his  mind  that  he  must 
preach  the  gospel — and  that,  too,  in  America. 
Then  and  there  he  solemnly  gave  himself  to 
that  work.  On  reaching  his  home  in  England, 
he  preached  with  great  acceptance  as  a  local 
preacher.  His  kindred  and  friends — his  fa- 
ther, especially — opposed  his  return  to  Amer- 
ica. Still  he  felt  the  movings  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  remembered  his  vow  in  the  storm, 


100  Db.  Summers. 


and  he  could  not  rest.  He  felt  that  he  must 
go,  and  his  father — a  good  man  and  a  Method- 
ist— at  length  assented,  saying,  "  You  must  go, 
George,  for  I  see  clearly  that  the  Spirit  calls, 
and  I  must  yield."  He  landed  at  Philadelphia 
May  16,  1825.  He  was  at  the  next  session  of 
the  Philadelphia  Conference  received  on  trial 
as  a  traveling  preacher.  He  was  successively 
appointed  to  Kensington  Station,  Lancaster 
Circuit,  New  Brunswick  Station,  and  Newark, 
New  Jersey.  In  1833  he  was  transferred  to 
the  Baltimore  Conference,  and  was  two  years 
in  each  of  the  stations  of  Baltimore  City,  Car- 
lisle, and  Wesley  Chapel  in  Washington  City, 
and  one  year  in  Alexandria.  During  the  last 
two  years  of  this  period  he  was  chaplain  to  tlie 
United  States  Senate.  The  eminent  and  intel- 
lectual men  that  waited  upon  his  ministry  were 
charmed  with  the  young  chaplain's  eloquence, 
and  won  by  his  humility  and  zeal.  He  held 
prayer-meetings  at  his  own  house  on  Satur- 
day evenings,  for  the  special  benefit  of  the 
members  of  Congress.  At  least  one  of  these 
— a  man  of  great  gifts  and  high  distinction 


The  Christian  Army.  101 

—  was  converted  at  these  meetings.  His 
catholic  spirit  drew  all  classes  to  him,  and 
opened  their  hearts  to  hear  the  word  of  the 
Lord  from  his  lips.  A  characteristic  pas- 
sage from  one  of  his  speeches,  delivered 
at  a  Bible  society  meeting  at  Brunswick,  New 
Jersey,  will  illustrate  both  his  spirit  and  his 
style: 

"I  believe,  sir,  we  are  on  the  eve  of  a  gen- 
eral engagement.  Now,  sir,  borrowing  the 
allusion,  will  you  permit  me  to  marshal  the 
Christian  army  on  those  principles  of  union  I 
have  endeavored  to  sustain?  '  Let,  then,  our 
Bible  societies,  with  their  auxiliaries,  be  a  line 
of  forts  established  along  the  enemy's  frontier 
as  bulwarks  of  defense.  Let  them  be  military 
magazines  well  stored  with  spiritual  weapons 
and  gospel  ammunition,  general  rallying-points 
for  the  whole  army,  and  strongholds  from 
whence  our  missionary  riflemen  may  sally  forth 
on  the  enemy.  Let  our  Sabbath-schools  be 
military  academies,  in  which  the  young  cadets 
may  be  trained  for  the  battles  of  the  Lord. 
Let  the  tract  societies  be  as  so  many  shot- 


102  Dr.  Summers. 


houses  for  the  manufacture  of  that  small  but 
useful  material. 

"Having,  sir,  thus  disposed  of  the  outworks, 
let  us  endeavor  to  arrange  the  army. 

"  Suppose,  sir,  for  example,  we  begin  with 
the  Methodists;  and  as  they  are  said  to  be  tol- 
erable pioneers  and  excellent  foragers  in  new 
countries,  and  active  withal,  I  propose  that  we 
mount  them  on  horseback,  and  employ  them  as 
cavalry,  especially  on  the  frontiers. 

"And  as  our  Presbyterian  brethren  love  an 
open  field,  and  act  in  concert,  and  move  in  sol- 
id bodies,  let  them  constitute  our  infantry;  let 
them  occupy  the  center  in  solid  columns,  and 
fight  according  to  Napoleon's  tactics,  in  mili- 
tary squares,  ever  presenting  a  firm  front  to 
the  enemy.  Our  Baptist  brethren  we  will  sta- 
tion along  the  rivers  and  lakes,  which,  we  doubt 
not,  they  will  gallantly  defend,  and  win  many 
laurels  in  the  lake  warfare.  Our  brethren  of 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  shall  man 
the  garrisons,  inspect  the  magazines,  and  direct 
the  batteries. 

"But,  SU-,  we  want  artillery-men.    Whom 


Abrakgixg  the  Fobces.  103 

shall  we  employ?  The  light  field-pieces  and 
the  heavy  ordnance  must  be  served.  I  pro- 
pose, sir,  that  we  commit  this-  very  important 
department  to  our  brethren  o£  the  Dutch  Re- 
formed Church;  and,  sir,  may  they  acquit 
themselves  with  a  valor  worthy  of  their  ances- 
tors, when  the  proud  flag  of  De  Witt  swept  the 
sea,  and  the  thunder  of  Van  Tromp  shook  the 
ocean.  And  now,  sir,  the  army  is  arranged. 
We  have  one  great  Captain,  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  whose  orders  we  are  all  bound  to  obey. 
Our  standard  is  the  cross,  and  'OnAvard'  is  the 
watch- word.  Let  us  give  no  quarter;  we  fight 
for  death  or  victory. 

"At  the  same  time  let  us  preserve  our  orig- 
inal order.  United  in  spirit  and  design,  let  us 
be  distinct  in  movement.  Let  not  the  cavalry, 
infantry,  and  artillery-men  mingle  in  one  in- 
discriminate mass.  Let  each  keep  his  proper 
position,  adopt  his  peculiar  uniform,  act  under 
his  local  colors,  and  fight  in  his  own  peculiar 
manner.  Thus  we  shall  act  with  consistency 
and  vigor,  without  discomposing  each  other  or 
disordering  the  ranks. 


104  Dr.  Summers. 


"Let  a  strict  religious  discipline  prevail 
throughout  the  camp,  for  we  must  not  suffer 
that  shameful  reproach,  that  we  recommend  to 
others  what  we  practice  not  ourselves.  Ac- 
cordingly, let  us,  like  the  soldiers  of  Oliver 
Cromwell,  read  our  Bible  and  pray  twice  a  day 
in  each  of  the  tents. 

"And  now,  sir,  let  us  to  the  field  of  action. 
May  the  God  of  battles  give  the  victory,  and 
the  trembling  gates  of  hell  shake  to  their 
center! 

"  Sir,  it  was  at  the  close  of  one  of  the  most 
sanguinary  conflicts  of  modern  times  that  a 
celebrated  military  chieftain,  from  his  x>oint 
of  observation,  saw  with  deepest  anxiety  the 
shattered  remains  of  his  noble  army  ready  to 
sink  under  the  protracted  fatigue  of  a  three 
days'  fight.  At  this  eventful  crisis  he  summons 
around  him  his  council  of  oflficers.  'Gentle- 
men,' says  he,  'these  brave  fellows  can  hold 
out  no  longer.'  Palling  out  his  wat^h,  '  Gen- 
tlemen, it  now  wants  fifteen  minutes  of  six 
o'clock.  If  the  Prussians  do  not  arrive  before 
six  o'clock,  I  must  sound  a  retreat.    Gentle^ 


The  Diabolical  Spy.  105 

men,  to  your  positions.'  He  stood — he  looked 
at  his  watch — he  looked  to  the  field — he  looked 
upward  to  heaven,  and  implored  help  from 
the  great  Arbiter  of  battles.  It  was  an  awfid 
moment.  Minute  succeeded  to  minute.  His 
hard-earned  laurels,  the  honor  of  his  country, 
the  destinies  of  Europe,  hung  trembling  in 
the  balance.  At  length  the  cry  bursts  on  his 
listening  ear,  *  The  Prussians  are  coming! '  He 
starts  from  his  knees,  he  flings  away  his  watch, 
he  cries,  'All's  well — the  day  is  ours!'  Sir, 
let  us  keep  the  field,  maintain  our  position,  do 
our  duty,  and  all  will  be  well — the  day  shall 
be  ours. 

"  Before  I  sit  down,  I  have  a  daty  to  perform 
to  that  portion  of  the  army  here  assembled.  I 
have  to  forewarn  them  that  there  is  lurking  in 
different  sections  of  our  camp  a  dangerous  and 
malignant  spy.  I  will  endeavor  to  describe 
this  diabolical  spy  as  well  as  I  can.  He  is  re- 
markably old,  having  grown  gray  in  iniquity. 
He  is  toothless  and  crooked,  and  altogether  of 
a  very  unsavory  countenance.  His  name,  sir, 
is  *  Bigotry.'     He  seldom  travels  in  daylight, 


106  Dr.  SvmiEus. 


but  in  the  evening  shades  he  steals  forth  from 
his  hannts  of  retirement,  and  creeps  into  the 
tents  of  the  soldiers;  and  with  a  tongue  as 
smooth  and  deceptions  as  the  serpent  who  de- 
ceived our  first  mother,  he  endeavors  'to  sow 
arrows,  fire-brands,  and  death'  in  the  camp. 
His  policy  is  to  persuade  the  soldiers  in  garri- 
son to  despise  those  in  open  field;  and  again, 
those  in  open  field  to  despise  those  in  garri- 
son; to  incite  the  cavalry  against  the  infantry, 
and  the  infantry  against  the  cavalry.  And  in 
so  doing  he  makes  no  scruple  to  employ  mis- 
representation, slander,  and  falsehood  —  for, 
like  his  father,  he  is  a  liar  from  the  beginning. 
"Now,  sir,  I  trust  the  army  will  be  on  the 
alert  in  detecting  this  old  scoundrel,  and  mak- 
ing a  public  example  of  liim.  I  hope  if  the 
Methodist  cavalry  catch  him  on  the  frontiers, 
they  will  ride  him  down,  and  put  him  to  the 
sword  without  delay.  I  trust  the  Presbyterian 
infantry  will  receive  him  on  the  point  of  the 
bayonet;  and  should  the  Baptists  find  him 
skulking  along  the  banks  of  the  rivers,  I  trust 
they  will   fairly  drown   him;  and  should  he 


The  Ocean's  Secret.  107 

dare  to  approach  any  of  our  garrisons,  I  hope 
the  Episcopalians  will  open  upon  him  a  double- 
flanked  battery;  and  the  Dutch  Reformed  greet 
him  with  a  whole  round  of  artillery.  Let  him 
die  the  death  of  a  spy,  without  military  hon- 
ors; and  after  he  has  been  gibbeted  for  a  con- 
venient season,  let  his  body  be  given  to  the 
Quakers,  and  let  them  bury  him  deep  and  in 
silence.  May  God  grant  his  miserable  ghost 
may  never  revisit  this  world  of  trouble ! " 

After  the  lapse  of  fourteen  years,  Mr.  Cook- 
man  determined  to  return  to  England  to  re- 
ceive the  blessing  of  his  aged  fdther,  and  to 
visit  the  grave  of  his  mother.  Did  he  feel  a 
presentiment  of  his  mysterious  fate?  A  few 
days  before  embarking,  he  said  to  his  children : 
"Now,  boys,  remember,  if  your  father  should 
sink  in  the  ocean,  his  soul  will  go  direct  to  the 
paradise  of  God,  where  you  must  all  meet 
him."  He  left  I^ew  York  in  the  steam-ship 
President,  and  has  not  been  heard  of  since. 
The  secret  will  be  kept  until  the  earth  and  the 
sea  give  up  their  dead  at  the  judgment-day. 

Summers  always  considered  the  acquaint- 


108  Dr.  Summers. 


ance  and  friendship  of  Cookman  as  one  of  the 
brightest  and  most  sacred  reminiscences  of  his 
life,  and  carried  with  him  to  the  grave  the  iin- 
dimmed  image  of  that  sweet-spirited  and  brill- 
iant young  preacher. 


CHAPTER  XT. 

HE   GOES   TO   TEXAS. 

THE  General  Conference  was  held  in  Bal- 
timore, May,  1840.  Mr.  Summers  grati- 
fied his  curiosity  and  enlarged  his  knowledge 
of  Methodist  men  and  Methodist  affairs  by  be- 
ing present  at  the  Conference.  He  was  a  close 
observer,  and  his  remarkable  memory  held  all 
that  he  saw  and  heard;  but  we  have  no  record 
of  his  impressions  of  that  venerable  body. 

At  the  close  of  the  session  Summers  went  to 
his  work  in  Texas.  He  finished  that  year  in 
Galveston.  The  next  two  years  he  was  in  Gal- 
veston and  Houston,  alternating  every  fort- 
night. The  year  1843  he  was  stationed  in 
Houston. 

These  were  four  busy,  fruitful  years.  He 
crowded  into  them  a  vast  amount  of  labor,  for 
he  was  always  at  work,  and  always  put  his  full 
strength  into  all  that  he  did.  Excursions  were 
made  by  him  into  all  parts  of  Texas,  from  the 
Sabine  to  the  Colorado,  and  from  the  coast  to 

(109^ 


110   .  Dr.  Summers. 


the  mountains,  attending  camp-meetings  and 
Conferences.  "I  was,"  said  he,  speaking  of 
this  period  in  his  life,  "permitted  to  labor 
extensively,  and  to  witness  the  conversion  of 
many  souls."  That  form  of  expression  is  sig- 
nificant of  the  times — the  conversion  of  souls 
was  usually  no  quiet,  easy  matter  in  that  new 
country,  amoi>g  that  rough,  restless  population. 
The  camp-ground  was  a  4)attle-field,  the  pow- 
ers of  darkness  were  assaulted  with  sermons 
and  songs  and  shouts.  Sons  of  thunder  ful- 
minated truth  from  the  "preachers'  stand," 
penitents  wrestled  in  real  agonies  of  soul, 
and  converts,  passing  suddenly  from  darkness 
to  light,  rejoiced  aloud  with  exceeding  joy. 
Though  his  own  conversion  was  of  a  different 
type.  Summers  fairly  reveled  in  scenes  like 
these.  The  intensity  of  his  nature  responded 
to  methods  that  pushed  the  question  of  salva- 
tion by  Jesiis  Christ  to  a  quick  conclusion. 
The  Methodism  that  was  shaped  in  Maryland 
and  Virginia  was  tempered  at  a  white  heat  in 
these  Texas  camp-meetings.  He  was  confirmed 
in  his  belief  in  a  present,  free,  and  full  salva- 


Alexander,  Fisher,  McKenzie.     Ill 

tiou  for  all  who  seek  the  Lord  with  purpose  of 
heart.  Among  his  co-laborers  was  that  mighty 
man  of  God,  Robert  Alexander,  towering  like 
Saul  a  head  and  shoulders  above  his  brethren, 
a  born  leader  and  a  true  minister 'of  the  gos- 
pel; Orceneth  Fisher,  the  fervid  evangelist 
and  wonderful  orator,  who  could  make  the 
stoutest  sinner  quail  as  in  sight  and  hearing  of 
the  flame  and  thunder  of  Sinai,  and  melt  as  in 
the  very  presence  of  the  dying  Saviour  on  Cal- 
vary; J.  W.  P.  McKenzie,  the  preacher  and 
school-master  who  won  the  hearts  of  the  young 
and  old  to  himself,  and  then  led  them  to  Je- 
sus— and  others,  whose  names  are  sinking  out 
of  sight,  but  whose  work  the  great  day  will 
declare. 

In  1842,  Mr.  Summers  made  a  tour  through 
the  United  States,  going  as  far  as  New  York ; 
and  in  1843,  another,  not  so  extensive,  to  pro- 
cure funds  to  build  churches  in  Galveston  and 
Houston.  While  on  this  service  he  visited 
Vicksburg  when  the  yellow  fever  was  raging 
in  that  city.  He  took  the  fever,  which  devel- 
oped itself  after  he  had  preached  at  a  camp- 


112  Dr.  Summers. 


meeting  twelve  miles  from  the  city.  It  was 
Saturday,  and  not  until  Sunday  afternoon  was 
it  known  that  he  had  the  fever.  He  was  then 
taken  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Lum,  close  by. 
The  best  physicians  were  sent  for,  and  about  a 
dozen  attended  hira.  They  said  he  must  die. 
The  Kev.  C.  K.  Marshall  and  other  friends 
gathered  around  his  bed,  and  wept,  sung, 
prayed,  and  commended  his  soul  to  God.  He 
was  calm  and  resigned,  though  not  ecstatic. 
"After  awhile,"  he  said,  "I  thought  I  would 
recover.  The  medicines  given  me  were  of  the 
most  powerful  kind;  their  effects  were  supple- 
mented by  a  gracious  Providence,  and  I  slowly 
recovered."  Faith  was  an  undoubted  factor  in 
the  solution  of  the  case — so  he  believed. 

Resuming  his  journey — perhaps  too  soon — 
he  reached  Natchez,  and  was  again  thrown  into 
his  bed,  very  sick.  Again  recovering,  he  went 
to  Woodville  and  preached;  thence  to  New 
Orleans;  thence  to  Galveston,  relapsing  on  the 
way,  and  reaching  the  last-named  place  in  a 
most  pitiable  bodily  plight. 

But  he  was  full  of  joy,  having  succeeded  in 


First  Brick  Church.  113 

his  object.  The  money  was  obtained;  the 
churches  were  built  and  paid  for  "within  a 
fraction"  before  he  left  Texas.  He  called  the 
church  in  Galveston  "Eyland  Chapel,"  in  hon- 
or of  his  venerable  friend  the  Eev.  William 
Ryland,  of  Washington  City,  who  gave  him 
eighteen  hundred  dollars  toward  its  erection. 
That  in  Houston  was  the  first  brick  church  in 
Texas. 

During  part  of  the  time  that  Mr.  Summers 
was  in  Galveston  and  Houston  there  were  no 
other  ministers  in  those  cities,  so  that  he  was 
the  preacher  for  all  denominations  of  Chris- 
tians, toward  whom  he  showed  a  brotherly 
spirit  that  was  heartily  appreciated  and  recip- 
rocated by  them. 

That  he  had  his  full  share  of  difficulties  and 
troubles  while  in  Texas,  we  are  certain  enough. 
The  only  record  concerning  them,  however,  is 
found  in  these  words  written  by  himself:  "At 
that  time,  it  may  be  supposed,  I  experienced 
some  trials  in  Texas,  which  was  then  in  its 
transition  state.  These,  however,  it  is  not  nec- 
essary to  detail." 


114  Dr.  Summers. 


On  the  arrival  of  Bishop  Andrew,  the  week 
following  his  own,  Mr.  Summers  resolved  to  go 
with  him  to  Conference.  This  journey  to  the 
Conference,  as  described  by  the  Bishop,  has 
the  true  flavor  of  the  old  times: 

"According  to  custom,  I  set  about  inquiring 
for  ways  and  means  to  reach  the  Conference. 
In  the  afternoon,  I  received  a  note  from  Broth- 
er Summers,  the  stationed  minister  in  Houston, 
who  had  been  on  a  visit  to  the  States,  where  he 
had  been  ill  with  yellow  fever,  and  on  his  way 
liome  had  relapsed  some  two  or  three  times. 
He  had  reached  Galveston;  but  his  state  of 
health  compelled  him  to  pause  till  he  should 
recruit  a  little.  I  called  to  see  him,  and  found 
him  sadly  wasted  in  appearance,  though  in 
g(-K)d  spirits,  and  fully  bont  on  going  with  me 
to  Conference.  But  how  were  we  to  get  there? 
this  was  the  next  question.  There  were  two  or 
three  ways  suggested;  one  was  to  go  by  boat 
up  the  Trinity  River,  by  which  means  we  un- 
derstood we  should  land  within  some  ten  or 
fifteen  miles  of  the  Conference,  where  we  might 
procure  horses  if  we  could,  and  if  we  could  not, 


Coming  Back.  115 


take  it  afoot — no  pleasant  job,  by  the  way,  in 
a  country  completely  under  water.  But  then, 
the  boat  was  not  in  port,  and  might  not  start 
directly — indeed,  she  might  be  a  fortnight  go- 
ing to  our  landing-point.  Another  plan  was, 
to  take  steam-boat  to  Houston,  distant  ninety 
miles  by  water,  and  some  fifty  by  land ;  from 
thence  we  should  have  to  go  on  horseback  to 
the  Conference,  a  distance  of  some  eighty  or 
ninety  miles.  But  could  we  procure  horses? 
This  was  questionable;  but  then  there  was  no 
alternative.  Brother  Summers  thought  he 
could  borrow,  and  if  not,  we  must  purchase; 
but  then,  could  we  sell  again  on  our  return? 
This  was  still  more  doubtful. 

"  While  we  were  still  in  doubt,  the  steamer 
from  Houston  made  her  appearance,  and  we 
ascertained  she  was  to  leave  again  in  a  few 
hours,  on  her  return;  so  we  at  once  decided  to 
return  in  her,  and  forthwith  made  our  arrange- 
ments for  a  prompt  and  unceremonious  depart- 
ure. It  was  raining,  and  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing a  stiff  breeze  when  we  went  aboard;  yet  we 
were  soon  under  way.    Tlie  wind  increased  so 


116  Dr.  SuMMEiis. 


that  by  eight  or  nine  o'clock  we  were  struggling 
under  the  pressure  of  a  full-grown  gale.  The 
bay  was  exceedingly  rough,  and  our  boat  pitched 
at  a  terrible  rate;  and,  as  she  was  not  by  any 
means  a  new  craft,  but  had  seen  many  years' 
service,  we  were  not  without  some  ground  for 
apprehension.  Our  captain,  however,  was  skill- 
ful and  prudent;  we  cast  anchor  under  Cedar 
Point,  and  with  the  blessing  of  Providence 
rode  out  the  gale  in  safety. 

"  We  then  weighed  anchor  and  pursued  our 
way,  and  the  next  morning  by  breakfast-time, 
we  were  in  Houston,  named  in  honor  of  the 
hero  of  San  Jacinto,  the  present  chief  magis- 
trate of  the  Eepublic.  The  city  is  laid  out  on 
the  banks  of  the  Buffalo  Bayou,  a  small  river, 
or  rather  a  large  creek,  which  has  a  depth  of 
channel  sufficient  for  moderate-sized  steamers; 
but  it  is  so  narrow  that  at  many  points  I  should 
judge  it  Avas  impossible  for  two  boats  to  pas^ 
each  other.  TJie  town  has  rather  a  business 
appearance;  at  least,  there  are  plentiful  ar- 
rangements for  business  in  the  way  of  houses 
and  signs.     Its  founders,  like  those  engaged  in 


E ABLY-DAY  TeXAS.  117 

establishing  cities  in  our  own  country,  turned 
prophets,  and  their  visions  were  all  o£  the  fut- 
ure greatness  of  their  nursling.  As  a  matter 
of  course,  speculation  ran  high,  and  property 
sold  at  unreasonable  prices.  The  large  predic- 
tions of  its  greatness  have  not  been  realized. 
Still  it  had  advantages  sufficient  to  render  it 
a  place  of  considerable  trade,  provided  there 
was  capital  enough  under  the  direction  of  a 
discreet  public  spirit.  It  was  the  most  conven- 
ient point  for  the  traffic  of  an  extensive  region 
of  fertile  country  in  the  interior;  but  the  prop- 
er measures  have  not  been  taken  to  secure  and 
perpetuate  these  advantages.  The  roads  dur- 
ing the  winter  are  scarcely  passable  at  all  for 
heavily  loaded  cotton-wagons.  The  streams  are 
not  bridged,  so  that  the  people  in  the  interior 
are  seeking  new  channels  of  communication 
with  the  coast.  Small  steamers  are  now  plying 
regularly  on  the  Trinity  River,  thus  securing 
to  Galveston  a  good  deal  of  the  trade  Avhich 
formerly  centered  at  Houston,  and  the  planters 
on  the  bottoms  of  the  Brazos  will  probably  find 
it  more  convenient  to  communicate  directly 


118  Dr.  SUAfMERS. 


with  the  same  sea-port,  by  means  of  either 
steam-boats  or  flat-boats. 

"Had  there  been  a  tolerable  and  certain 
communication  established  with  Houston  by 
means  of  a  passable  turnpike  or  a  canal,  it 
would  long  have  continued  to  command  the 
trade  o^  this  fertile  region;  but  on  my  way 
from  Houston,  I  passed  a  whole  company  of 
wagons  encamped  at  Little  Cypress,  about 
thirty  miles  from  Houston,  many  of  which  had 
been  lying  there  two  weeks,  when  one  week's 
work  with  twenty  hands  would  have  thrown  a 
good  bridge  across  the  stream;  and  at  John- 
son's Bayou,  only  nine  miles  from  town,  wag- 
ons are  frequently  detained  a  day  or  two,  when 
ten  hands  could  jmt  up  a  good  bridge  in  three 
days.  These  are  only  given  as  specimens;  and 
whether  it  results  from  want  of  spirit  or  want 
of  money,  the  eflfect  is  the  same.  The  town,  I 
suppose,  contains  some  two  thousand  inhabit- 
ants, who  are  said  to  be  friendly  and  hospita- 
ble. I  noticed  grog-shops  in  great  abundance, 
and  I  fear  they  do  a  prosperous  business.  They 
have  a  Catholic  church,  and  there  is  also  a 


Houston  as  It  Was.  119 

house  of  worship  for  Presbyterians.  The 
Methodists  have  a  very  neat  brick  chapel  near- 
ly finished,  for  which  we  are  mainly  indebted 
to  the  indefatigable  labors  of  Brother  Sum- 
mers, and  the  liberality  of  our  friends  in  the 
States.  The  Episcopalians  have  a  minister — 
apparently  a  very  clever,  gentlemanly  man — 
who  is  exerting  considerable  influence  here, 
and  I  should  judge  from  report  was  quite  ex- 
emplary and  pious  in  his  deportment.  The 
Presbyterians  were  without  a  pastor.  Of  the 
Methodist  society  I  ought  to  speak  more  par- 
ticularly, but  can  only  say  they  are  not  numer- 
ous, and  there  is  but  little  of  this  world's 
wealth  among  them.  They  have,  however, 
some  pious  spirits,  and  it  is  confidently  hoped 
when  they  get  their  church  finished  and  liave 
a  minister  statedly  among  them  that  they  will 
experience  enlarged  prosperity.  Beyond  all 
doubt,  there  is  great  need  for  a  deep,  a  thor- 
ough, a  sweeping  revival  of  religion  in.  Hous- 
ton; for  in  addition  to  the  usual  evil  influences 
exerted  against  what  is  holy,  they  have  liere 
more  of  infidelity,  subtle,  organized,  and  bold- 


120  Dr.  Summers. 


ly  blasphemous,  than  I  have  met  in  any  place 
of  its  size  in  all  ray  journeyings.  May  God 
graciously  visit  Houston  with  a  mighty  revival 
of  religion,  and  that  right  soon ! 

"  Well,  we  applied  ourselves  right  diligently 
to  preparation  for  our  journey  to  Conference. 
Two  or  three  times  we  thought  our  borrowing 
arrangements  were  complete,  when  they  were 
suddenly  broken  in  upon  by  some  unexpected 
failure;  at  length,  however,  we  supposed  all 
complete,  and  made  our  arrangements  for  a 
start  on  Friday  morning,  everybody  warning 
us  not  to  attempt  it,  as  the  thing  was  utterly 
impracticable,  the  whole  country  being  com- 
pletely inundated.  To  all  these  boding  proph- 
ecies we  had  one  uniform  answer:  It  is  our 
duty  to  try,  and  try  tee  will.  But  when  Friday 
morning  came  it  was  raining,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  almost  murderous  to  take  my  determined 
companion  out  on  such  a  journey  in  such 
weather,  so  I  concluded  to  wait  till  next  day. 
Accordingly  we  waited  till  Saturday,  hoping 
for  better  times;  but  Saturday  morning  came, 
and   it  was  raining  still,  so  we  resolved  to 


On  the  Road.  121 


take  the  journey,  for  better  or  worse,  for  wet 
or  dry. 

"  On  Saturday  morning,  by  eleven  o'clock,  our 
arrangements  were  all  complete,  and  we  were 
under  way  for  the  Conference.  Our  company 
consisted  of  Brother  Summers,  Brother  Shearn, 
an  English  gentleman,  a  resident  of  Houston, 
and  myself.  Brother  Summers  lef  b  his  bed  to 
mount  his  horse.  I  opposed  it,  but  with  a 
genuine  John  Bull  obstinacy,  or,  as  he  called 
it,  resolute  perseverance,  he  went  ahead.  We 
were  all  mounted  on  borrowed  nags,  and  one 
of  them  came  very  near  being  drowned  in 
crossing  the  bayou  just  at  the  city.  However, 
we  saved  her,  and  she  did  good  service  after- 
ward. For  the  first  three  or  four  miles,  our 
road  lay  through  a  slip  of  pine-woods,  after 
which  we  entered  upon  an  open  prairie,  which 
continued  for  nearly  forty  miles.  Nine  miles 
from  town  we  came  to  the  first  creek,  which  we 
had  been  warned  would  be  impassable.  We 
crossed  it,  however,  safely,  the  water  reaching 
about  to  the  saddle-skirts.  It  was  now  about 
three  o'clock,  and  four  hours'  assiduous  travel 


122  Dr.  Summers. 


had  brought  us  nine  miles.  From  this  to  the 
next  house  on  our  route  was  about  fourteen 
miles.  This  was  our  only  chance  for  a  night's 
lodging,  unless  we  took  it  in  the  open  prairie, 
and  if  we  had  attempted  this  with  all  the  ap- 
pliances of  wood  and  fire,  we  could  not  have 
found  in  all  that  distance  dry  ground  enough 
to  encamp  on;  so  we  had  but  one  of  three  al- 
ternatives— to  stop  at  Johnson's,  sleep  in  the 
prairie  on  horseback,  or  go  on  to  Big  Cypress. 
We  chose  the  last,  and  pushed  ahead.  As  we 
anticipated,  night  overtook  us  long  before  we 
reached  our  destination.  The  whole  praiiie 
was  afloat;  the  water,  most  of  the  time,  was 
from  knee-deep  to  the  saddlo-skirts,  and  occa- 
sionally we  charged  a  *sloo,'  which  gave  our 
feet  a  taste  of  cold  water.  To  add  to  our 
trouble,  we  were  strangers  to  the  road.  Broth- 
er Summers  had  indeed  traveled  it  once,  but  it 
had  been  some  time  since,  and  as  it  was  a  pret- 
ty dark  night,  we  felt  ourselves  in  some  danger 
of  getting  lost,  which  would  not  have  been  by 
any  means  the  most  desirable  thing  which 
could   have   hap^jencd  to  us.      It   had  been 


A  Night  Ride.  123 

cloudy  all  day,  and  still  the  clouds  predomi- 
nated; but  here  and  there  a  small  patch  of 
twinkling  stars  were  visible  in  the  blue  vault 
above  us,  affording  the  only  light  which  shone 
on  our  watery  way;  and  save  the  sound  of  our 
horses'  feet  splashing  in  the  water,  the  shrill 
whoop  of  the  crane,  or  the  noise  of  numerous 
flocks  of  wild  geese  and  ducks,  which  were 
startled  at  our  approach,  there  was  no  sound 
to  break  in  upon  the  gloomy  silence  of  the 
scene  around  us,  unless  we  chose  to  keep  our 
own  voices  employed,  which  we  did  pretty 
freely  by  way  of  cheering  each  other's  spirits. 
Long  and  anxiously  did  we  look  out  for  some 
light  ahead  of  us  which  might  indicate  the  lo- 
cality of  our  inn ;  but  repeated  disappointments 
had  brought  us  all  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
folks  behind  us  were  miserable  hands  at  cal- 
culating distances.  Finally,  however,  when  we 
were  just  in  the  neighborhood  of  getting  a 
little  ill-natured,  the  light  appeared  in  the  dis- 
tance. We  pushed  ahead  with  new  life,  and  at 
length  rode  up  to  a  house  on  the  bank  of  a 
large  stream  of  water.     I  gave  the  usual  salu- 


124  Dr.  Summers. 


tations,  and  was  informed  we  could  lodge  there 
all  night,  but  when  I  proposed,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  mud,  to  ride  up  to  the  steps  and  dis- 
mount, a  voice  of  warning  from  within  admon- 
ished me  not  to  attempt  it,  unless  I  wanted  to 
'bog  down.'  And  as  I  had  no  particular  de- 
sire for  so  deep  an  acquaintance  with  the  mys- 
teries of  Texan  mud,  we  dismounted  at  the 
gate  and  trudged  our  way  into  the  house  as 
best  we  could.  We  found  a  good  blazing  fire 
on  the  hearth,  and  we  were  wet,  muddy,  weary, 
and  hungry,  so  that  we  enjoyed  the  comforts 
of  the  fire,  and  were  ready  for  the  supper;  and 
I  was  glad  to  see  that  even  our  invalid  was 
prepared  to  join  us  in  doing  ample  justice  to 
the  good  woman's  fried  pork,  corn-bread,  and 
sweet  potatoes;  and  when,  after  offering  up  in 
the  family  our  evening  devotions  at  the  throne 
of  grace,  we  retired  to  our  beds,  we  were  pre- 
pared for  a  comfortable  night's  sleep,  although 
my  bed  was  not  the  softest,  nor  was  the  bed- 
stead long  enough  for  me  to  stretch  myself; 
however,  I  have  long  since  learned  to  accom- 
modate myself  to  circumstances;  accordingly  I 


A  Pioneer  Woman.  125 

made  shift  to  deposit  myself  in  such  wise  as  to 
be  able  to  procure  needful  repose,  and  arose 
the  next  morning  refreshed,  in  good  health, 
and  with  a  heart  deeply  conscious  of  my  obli- 
gations to  my  Almighty  Preserver,  and  grate- 
ful for  his  constant  care  over  me  ever  since  I 
was  born. 

"  Our  landlady  had  followed  the  fortunes  of 
her  husband  and  settled  in  Texas  long  before 
the  war  of  independence.  During  that  strug- 
gle they  had  been  obliged  to  fly  before  the  in- 
vading Mexicans.  After  the  war  was  over,  they 
returned  to  their  home,  where,  in  the  course  of 
the  last  two  or  three  years,  she  had  buried  her 
husband,  and  was  now  a  widow.  She  had  sev- 
eral children,  and  was  possessed  of  a  good  deal 
of  that  sort  of  property  which  constituted  so 
large  a  portion  of  patriarchal  wealth — she  was 
'rich'  in  cattle.  Of  course,  there  was  not 
much  of  refinement  or  polish  about  her,  yet 
she  possessed  sterling  goodness  of  heart.  Her 
house  was  a  preaching-place,  where  the  itiner- 
ant preachers  statedly  held  forth  the  word  of 
life,  and  she  herself  was  a  member  of  this  lit- 


126  Dr.  Summers. 


tie  Church  in  the  wilderness.  After  prayer 
and  breakfast,  we  resumed  our  journey.  We 
had  the  Cypress  to  cross,  which  was  now  be- 
come quite  a  formidable  stream.  We  could 
not,  of  course,  attempt  to  ford  it,  so  we  had  to 
cross  it  in  a  sort  of  temporary  flat,  which  had 
been  hastily  put  together  to  enable  travelers  to 
cross  this  otherwise  (in  its  present  circum- 
stances) impassable  stream.  Our  boat  lay  at 
anchor  some  twenty  yards  from  the  shore.  We 
had,  consequently,  to  ride  in  till  we  reached  it, 
when  we  made  our  horses  spring  into  it;  and 
after  navigating  some  fifty  yards,  they  had  to 
jump  out  again  to  enable  our  clumsy  little  craft 
to  pass  over  the  shallows  for  some  thirty  yards, 
when  our  ponies  had  to  submit  to  a  compulso- 
ry embarkation  a  second  time — after  which  we 
accomplished  the  remainder  of  our  voyage 
over  the  Cypress  without  further  interruption-. 
Six  miles  farther  on,  we  came  to  another  creek 
called  Little  Cypress.  Here  we  found  a  dozen 
wagons  encamped,  some  of  which  had  been  ly- 
ing here  a  fortnight,  unable  to  cross  the  stream. 
There  was  a  small  raft  made  of  [x^les  tied  to- 


A  Morning's  Ride.  127 

gether,  on  which  we  crossed  and  carried  over 
our  baggage — our  horses  we  drove  across.  Our 
raft  was  barely  large  enough  to  carry  two,  so 
that  my  feet  were  wet  before  I  was  mounted 
again.     From  this  creek  we  had  a  ride  of  nine 

miles  to  the  Widow  M 's,  at  whose  house 

we  intended  to  remain  till  next  morning.  Our 
road  lay  over  an  undulating  prairie,  through 
which  the  recent  rains  had  washed  large  gul- 
lies, along  which  the  water  was  roaring  and 
foaming  quite  after  the  manner  of  the  wet- 
weatlier  branches  among  our  hills  in  Georgia. 
The  morning  was  cloudy  and  calm,  and  as  our 
road  was  an  unfrequented  path,  a  herd  of  sev- 
en or  eight  deer  started  up,  and  went  bound- 
ing away.  These  were  the  first  deer  that  I  had 
seen  in  the  Republic,  though  after  this  I  met 
with  them  in  larger  or  smaller  herds  every 
mile  or  two  during  this  morning's  ride.  The 
wild  geese,  too,  were  more  abundant  than  I  ever 
saw  them.  We  were  scarcely  ever  out  of  sight 
of  them,  and  were  constantly  startling  them 
from  their  feeding  grounds,  so  that,  with  their 
cackling  and  the  whizzing  of  their  wings,  they 


128  Dr.  Summers. 


kept  us  in  music  during  our  morning's  ride. 
Should  I  say  that  we  saw  several  tliousand 
during  our  ride  of  nine  miles,  I  think  that  I 
should  not  at  all  exaggerate.  Between  twelve 
and  one  o'clock  we  reached  our  point,  and  took 
up  our  quarters  till  next  morning. 

"  We  were  hospitably  entertained  by  the  good 
lady  who  kept  the  house.  She,  too,  had  come 
from  'the  States,'  and  had  settled  here  in  ear- 
ly times,  and  had  for  some  years  buried  her 
liusband.  She  had  several  children,  most  of 
them  boys,  and  nearly  all  grown  up.  Her 
house  was  also  a  preaching-place,  and  the  good 
woman  was  a  Methodist  of  some  sort,  but 
whether  she  belonged  to  the  Episcopal  or 
Protestant  Methodists  was  not  quite  clear — 
nor  did  the  old  lady  seem  to  think  it  a  matter 
of  much  consequence.  There  was  something 
about  this  good  woman  which  impressed  me 
very  strongly — a  woman  of  st<iut  frame  and 
quite  masculine  in  her  disposition  and  man- 
ners, long  accustomed  to  the  scenes  of  a  wild 
and  frontier  life,  she  had  contracted  a"  fear^ss- 
ness  of  expression  and  manner,  which  told  you 


A  Texas  Motheb.  129 

at  once  that  she  was  afraid  of  nothing.  She 
was,  withal,  quite  patriotic.  She  told  me  that 
in  the  war  of  independence  she  had  only  one 
sjn  who  could  'go  to  the  wars;'  and  that  dur- 
ing the  last  round  of  Mexican  invasion,  a  year 
or  two  since,  she  was  only  sorry  that  the  '  Mex- 
icans '  had  not  waited  two  or  three  years  more 
before  they  began  it;  'because,'  said  she,  'in 
the  other  war  I  had  only  one  soldier,  but  by 
that  time  I  should  have  had  five  or  six  soldiers 
of  my  own  little  making  to  fight  for  my  coun- 
try.' I  understand  there  are  many  such  moth- 
ers in  Texas.  It  seems  to  me  the  sons  of  such 
mothers  would  be  hard  to  conquer. 

"On  Monday  morning,  after  breakfast,  we 
were  again  on  the  road.  We  crossed  Spring 
Creek,  and  left  the  great  prairie  through  which 
we  had  been  traveling,  and  entered  upon  a  poor 
country  of  sand-hills  and  rapid  creeks,  some 
of  which  we  barely  escaped  swimming.  We 
traveled  more  than  twenty  miles  without  see- 
ing anybody,  or  passing  a  single  human  habi- 
tation, insomuch  that  we  began  to  fear  we  had 
missed  our  way,  which  would  have  been  an 


130  Dii.  Summers. 


uncomfortable  affair  in  these  solitary,  uninhab- 
ited barrens.  At  length  we  came  to  a  planta- 
tion, and  some  distance  up  the  creek  saw 
houses,  toward  which  we  urged  our  way,  hop- 
ing to  obtain  information  as  to  our  route;  but 
at  these  there  was  no  human  being  to  be  start- 
ed, although  the  smoke  was  still  ascending  from 
the  chimney,  and  two  lazy  dogs  were  on  duty 
as  sentinels.  This  was  a  sore  disappointment 
to  us.  After  consulting  awhile,  we  resolved  on 
our  course,  which,  in  a  mile  or  two,  brought  us 
to  a  house  at  which  we  obtained  directions  from 
a  servant,  who  told  us  the  way  to  an  Indian 
village  a  few  miles  distant,  where  he  said  we 
would  receive  instruction  in  the  way  to  our 
place  of  destination.  After  riding  a  couple  of 
miles,  we  came  to  a  miserable  muddy-looking 
creek.  After  working  our  way  through  the 
mud  and  cane  for  several  hundred  yards,  we 
emerged  from  the  swamp,  and  saw  on  the  hill 
before  us  the  wigwams  of  an  Indian  village. 
It  consisted  of  some  half  a  dozen  huts,  made, 
I  suppose,  pretty  much  in  the  primitive  abo- 
riginal style.     The  village  was  inhabited  by 


Old  Pilot.  131 

about  thirty  souls,  the  sole  remnant  o£  the 
Bedeye  nation.  We  saw  nobody,  except  two 
or  three  little  children  who  could  not  under- 
stand, or  at  any  rate  gave  no  reply  to  any  of 
our  questions.  Brothers  Shearn  and  Summers 
dismounted,  and  went  into  several  of  the  huts, 
in  one  of  which  they  found  a  very  aged  Indian 
man,  lying  on  a  bed  raised  from  the  earth  a 
little  by  boards;  on  these  were  spread  some 
cane-tops,  and  over  them  a  few  deer  skins. 
The  old  man  was  very  sick,  and  told  them  that 
he  should  die.  He  added  that  his  son  had 
been  killed  during  the  previous  year  by  some 
of  his  own  tribe,  and  he  showed  them  a  cer- 
tificate of  his  own  character  from  some  officer 
of  the  Eepublic.  Poor  old  Pilot,  he  had  none 
to  care  for  him;  his  child  had  been  murdered 
by  his  own  people,  and  now  that  he  was  dying 
none  of  his  countrymen  were  near  him  to  min- 
ister to  his  wants.     Such  is  paganism. 

"  We  left  the  village  with  such  directions  as 
the  poor  old  man  could  give  us,  and  after  miss- 
ing our  way  two  or  three  times  found  ourselves 
at  the  house  of  Sister  McRae,  formerly'  of  Ala- 


132  Dr.  Summers. 


bama,  who  gave  as  a  most  cordial  Cbristian 
welcome.  She  was  an  old  acquaintance  of 
Brother  Summers,  and  withal  a  most  excellent, 
warm-hearted  Methodist.  Her  children  were, 
I  think,  nearly  all  of  them  converted  and  in 
the  Church,  and  one  of  her  sons  was  class-lead- 
er of  the  society  in  the  neighborhood.  We 
spent  a  very  pleasant  night  with  this  good  fam- 
ily, and  the  next  morning  after  breakfast  we 
resumed  our  march  for  the  seat  of  the  Confer- 
ence, distant  now  about  thirty  miles.  One  of 
the  young  men  went  with  us  to  pilot  us  through 
Lake  Creek  Swamp,  one  of  the  worst  in  our 
route,  and  which  we  had  been  dreading  all  the 
way.  We  found  it  an  ugly  affair,  but  under 
the  direction  of  our  excellent  guide,  we  passed 
in  safety  to  tlie  hills  on  the  other  side,  when 
our  pilot  left  us.  We  passed  some  fine  land 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Lake  Creek.  In  about 
five  miles,  we  passed  Montgomery  Court-house 
— quite  a  picayune  town.  We  rode  about  fif- 
teen miles  through  a  country  the  most  of  which 
was  hilly  and  poor,  with  now  and  then  a  mis- 
erable muddy  creek,  whose  banks  were  so  steep 


Old  Friends.  133 


as  to  be  almost  impassable,  and  their  swamps 
affording  some  of  the  finest  specimens  of  very 
bad  roads.  When  we  reached  the  San  Jacinto 
— a  small  but  very  rapid  river,  which  was  swim- 
ming full,  and  might  not  be  attempted  on  horse- 
back— we  carried  our  luggage  over  on  a  log, 
and  drove  our  horses  across  the  stream.  After 
as  little  delay  as  possible,  we  were  again  in 
the  saddle,  and  a  ride  of  five  miles  more 
brought  us  to  Eobinson's  settlement,  in  which 
the  Conference  was  to  meet.  Brother  Sum- 
mers and  myself  were  conducted  to  the  house 
of  young  Brother  Bobinson,  with  whom  we 
were  to  lodge,  and  where  we  found  ourselves 
associated  with  the  brethren,  Fowler,  Clark, 
Alexander,  and  Wilson — all  old  friends  whom 
I  had  known  in  other  days,  and  whom  I  was 
greatly  rejoiced  to  take  by  the  hand  here  in 
this  far-off  country." 

Of  the  return  trip  the  good  Bishop  also  gives 
us  this  account: 

"  When  I  left  Galveston,  it  was  understood 
that  the  Neptune  was  to  return  to  that  port  so 
as  to  leave  for  New  Orleans  on  the  twenty- 


134  Dr.  Summers. 


second  of  December;  accordingly  my  arrange- 
ments were  all  made  in  view  of  reaching  Gal- 
veston on  ray  return  so  as  to  take  that  oppor- 
tunity of  returning  to  the  United  States.  To 
accommodate  my  wishes,  the  preachers  of  the 
Conference  hastened  their  adjournment  a  few 
hours  earlier  than  they  would  otherwise  have 
done,  though  not  till  all  the  Conference  busi- 
ness had  been  gone  through  with.  On  Mon- 
day, about  eleven  o'clock,  we  concluded  our 
labors,  and  were  ready  for  our  march  toward 
the  coast.  And  now  we  are  oflf,  let  us  take  a 
brief  survey  of  the  neighborhood  in  which  we 
had  held  our  session.  It  is  called  Robinson's 
settlement — taking  its  name  from  old  Brother 
Robinson,  who  came  here  and  settled  during 
the  days  of  Mexican  domination.  The  old  gen- 
tleman is  quite  the  patriarch  of  the  neighbor- 
hood— an  honest,  industrious,  pious  man,  who 
has  raised  a  considerable  family  of  children. 
These  are  happily  walking  in  the  footsteps  of 
their  venerable  father. 

"The  Methodists  have  quite  a  respectable 
society  in   the   neigh borhootl ;    and    although 


A  Bishop  ox  a  Log,  135 

some  of  us  may  have  had  a  mile  or  two  to  go 
to  the  Conference  each  day,  yet  we  were  enter- 
tained with  the  utmost  cordiality  and  hospi- 
tality. There  is  a  good  deal  of  pretty  good- 
looking  land  in  the  vicinity.  The  San  Jacinto 
River  ran  within  four  or  five  miles  of  the  Con- 
ference-room, and  the  Trinity  was  distant  some 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles. 

"  In  consequence  of  the  continued  rains  which 
had  fallen  during  the  Conference,  it  was  judged 
necessary  to  take  a  different  route  from  the  one 
traveled  by  us  as  we  came  up;  accordingly  we 
directed  our  course  higher  up  the  country,  by 
which  our  distance  was  considerably  increased 
— but  the  chances  of  crossing  the  water-courses 
were  greatly  multiplied.  Our  party  consisted 
of  Brothers  Summers  and  Johnson — a  local 
preacher  who  lived  a  day's  journey  on  our  way 
— Brothers  Porter  and  Zuber,  and  myself.  A 
ride  of  some  eight  or  nine  miles  brought  us  to 
the  San  Jacinto,  which  we  soon  ascertained  was 
swimming  full,  so  we  drove  our  horses  across, 
and  we  passed  ourselves  on  a  log — but  tjie  tree 
wan  a  small  one,  and  its  trunk  was  not  suffi- 


136  Db.  Summers. 


ciently  long  to  reach  across  the  stream,  so  that 
for  a  part  of  the  way  we  liad  to  depend  on  the 
limbs.  Fortunately  for  me,  there  was  some 
one  to  take  my  baggage  over,  or  I  know  not 
but  that  I  might  have  felt  the  bottom  of  the  San 
Jacinto.  As  it  was,  we  all  got  over  safely,  and 
were  soon  remounted  and  on  our  way  again. 
A  ride  of  a  mile  or  two  brought  as  to  the  house 
of  Brother  Portei — a  brother  of  the  Rev.  E.  R. 
Porter,  of  Mississippi — at  whose  hospitable 
cabin  we  dined  and  prayed,  and  then  resumed 
our  journey.  There  is  some  beautiful  prairie 
land  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  San  Jacinto. 
A  ride  of  some  ten  miles  brought  us  to  the 
house  of  Brother  Zuber,  whose  son  had  been 
with  us  from  the  Conference.  The  old  gentle- 
man was  formerly  of  Georgia,  where  he  still 
has  many  relatives.  We  were  received  very 
cordially,  and  had  the  best  treatment  which 
the  house  could  afford.  The  old  gentleman, 
however,  made  rather  an  uncomfortable  an- 
nouncement, viz.,  that  they  had  no  coffee  either 
in  the  house  or  in  the  neighborhood.  This 
was  a  sad  state  of  things  in  a  Texan  family; 


Not  Coffeeless.  137 

for,  be  it  understood,  in  Texas  coffee  is  regard- 
ed an  essential  article  for  housekeeping — what- 
ever else  is  lacking,  there  must  be  coffee,  or 
every  thing  is  out  of  joint.  As  to  sugar  or 
milk,  except  in  the  towns,  we  found  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other  in  more  than  one  or  two 
houses  in  all  our  route.  From  the  gloomy 
foreboding  of  a  coffeeless  supper  we  were  re- 
lieved by  our  kind  hostess,  who  told  us  she 
knew  where  to  find  coffee — and  sure  enough, 
it  was  forth-coming  at  our  supper-table.  We 
passed  a  pleasant  evening  with  this  kind-heart- 
ed family,  and  after  prayer  and  praise  retired 
to  rest.  The  next  morning  we  were  soon  at  the 
mercy-seat,  and  after  an  early  breakfast  were 
again  in  our  saddles  and  on  our  way  home- 
ward. 

"During  the  forenoon  our  road  lay  through 
a  more  thickly  settled  country,  much  of  which 
was  fertile,  affording  many  beautiful  situations 
for  buildings,  beautiful  undulating  prairie,  in- 
terspersed with  groves  of  post-oak,  promising 
an  abundant  supply  of  wood  and  timber.  Dur- 
ing part  of  the  day,  however,  we  held  our  way 


138  Dr.  Summers. 


through  a  broken  sand-hill  country,  with  very- 
little  semblance  of  cultivation  or  iinproveraent. 
In  the  afternoon  we  again  encountered  some 
very  fine  prairie  land  through  which  we  urged 
our  way  with  great  diflficulty  and  toil,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  deep  and  tenacious  mud  which 
opposed  our  progress  at  every  step.  After  a 
very  heavy  ride  of  about  forty  miles,  at  night- 
fall we  reached  the  house  of  Captain  Goheen, 
who  bid  us  a  kindly  welcome  to  his  cabin,  and 
the  best  fare  it  afforded.  We  found  him  a 
plain,  industrious  man  of  some  intelligence. 
He  had  been  a  soldier  in  the  Texan  army,  and, 
of  course,  was  a  large  land-holder.  He  ex- 
pressed some  regret  that  he  had  received  no 
wound  in  the  service  of  his  country,  as  in  that 
event  he  would  have  been  entitled  to  a  large 
additional  gratuity  of  land.  Mrs.  Goheen 
seemed  to  be  an  industrious,  clever,  hospita- 
ble woman,  and  a  member  of  our  Church.  The 
next  morning  after  breakfast  we  were  again  in 
the  saddle  and  wending  our  way  toward  Hous- 
ton. Our  kind  host  would  take  no  pay,  and 
only  gave  us  the  usual  Texas  charge,  'Call 


A  Touch  of  Sentiment.  139 

again.'  The  morning  was  calm  and  partially 
cloudy.  After  traveling  a  short  distance,  we 
espied  several  deer  near  our  path,  and  as  they 
were  starting  up  very  frequently,  I  concluded 
to  note  the  number,  and  in  riding  six  miles  I 
counted  thirty-eight  of  them.  We  were  almost 
constantly  in  view  of  small  herds  of  these  beau- 
tiful creatures,  and  I  was  greatly  amused  in 
witnessing  their  movements.  They  would  stand 
still  and  gaze  on  us  till  we  approached  within 
some  fifty  yards  of  them,  when  they  would 
move  gracefully  off,  till  they  supposed  them- 
selves out  of  harm's  way,  then  they  would  stop 
and  carelessly  commence  feeding,  or,  as  if  by 
way  of  defiance  to  us,  begin  to  play  with  each 
other.  Beautiful  creatures!  I  should  scarcely 
have  had  the  heart  to  shoot  you  if  I  had  been 
armed;  I  was  too  much  interested  in  your  agil- 
ity and  graceful  movements.  -At  some  seasons 
of  the  year,  when  the  water  in  the  prairies  is 
dried  up,  they  assemble  in  large  numbers  about 
the  creeks  in  the  edge  of  the  timber — some- 
times, I  understood,  to  the  number  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  in  a  drove.     Indeed,  a  gen- 


140  Dr.  Summers. 


tleman  who  traveled  with  us  informed  me  that 
in  the  country  west  of  the  Colorado  he  had 
seen  five  hundred  of  them  together.  A  young 
man  who  lived  in  the  prairie  told  me  of  a 
method  of  shooting  them,  which  to  me  at  least 
had  the  recommendation  of  novelty.  When 
the  hunter  sees  a  deer  which  he  wishes  to  kill, 
he  takes  his  rifle  and  creeps  along  under  cover 
of  the  high  grass  till  he  gets  within  proper  dis- 
tance; he  then  strikes  the  ground  several  times 
violently  with  his  fist,  and  then  raises  his  hand, 
which  he  holds  up  for  some  time.  The  curi- 
osity of  the  unsuspecting  animal  is  by  this 
means  arrested,  and  he  gradually  approaches 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  uplifted  hand  till  he 
has  approached  within  shooting  distance,  when 
the  unerring  rifle  carries  the  messenger  of 
death  to  the  unwary  victim  of  an  unfortunate 
curiosity. 

"  On  our  way,  we  passed  some  wagons  which 
we  had  left  at  Little  Cypress  ten  days  before, 
during  which  time  they  had  advanced  nine 
miles.  We  crossed  the  above-named  stream 
about  twelve  o'clock,  and  found  it  considera- 


In  the  Swamp.  141 

bly  fallen,  so  that  we  crossed  it  this  time  with- 
out swimming  or  rafting.  When  we  reached 
the  Big  Cypress,  we  found  that  also  lower 
than  when  we  passed;  but  this  was  all  the 
worse  for  us,  as  the  boat  could  not  come  to  its 
former  landing-place,  and  we  were  consequent- 
ly compelled,  after  waiting  a  long  while  to  as- 
certain the  ferryman's  whereabouts,  to  ride  for 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  into  the  swamp — 
the  water  frequently  to  the  saddle-skirts.  At 
last  we  espied  a  boatman  and  his  craft  leisure- 
ly awaiting  us,  it  not  being  convenient  for  him 
to  navigate  any  farther  in  the  direction  whence 
we  came.  We  compelled  our  jaded  ponies  to 
embark,  and  in  due  time  we  all  safely  reached 
the  opposite  shore.  It  was  late  and  we  were 
tired,  so  that  there  was  some  temptation  to 
stop  for  the  night,  especially  as  we  were  just 
entering  our  fourteen-mile  stretch;  but  then  I 
expected  the  steamer  to  leave  Houston  next 
day  for  Galveston,  where  I  hoped  to  embark 
in  the  Neptune  for  New  Orleans;  and  if  I  failed 
I  might  be  detained  from  home  a  week  or  two 
longer,  and  this  would  be  a  sad  disappoint- 


142  Dr.  Summers. 


ment  both  to  my  family  and  myself;  for  now 
that  my  t<iur  of  duty  was  accomplished,  and 
my  face  was  set  homeward,  the  attractions  that 
l:>elong  to  that  charmed  circle  were  grown  very 
strong. 

"Accordingly,  I  resolved  to  proceed  to  John- 
son's, fourteen  miles  ahead.  As  we  anticipated, 
dark  overtook  us  long  before  we  reached  our 
destination,  and  a  more  cheerless  night  ride  I 
do  not  recollect  to  have  had  in  many  years. 
The  night  was  dark,  and  although  the  water 
on  the  prairies  had  subsided  a  good  deal  since 
our  upward  trip,  yet  the  mud  was  not  a  whit 
more  favorable  to  our  progress.  Add  to  this 
that  our  horses  were  almost  broken  down,  and 
their  riders  were  in  but  little  better  plight. 
We  Avere  in  a  bad  mood  for  song  or  anec- 
dote ;  nor  did  my  sprightly  friend  seem  much 
inclined  to  any  sort  of  philosophical  disquisi- 
tion. In  fact,  the  only  problem  in  physical  or 
mental  philosophy  which  troubled  us  much 
was,  how  far  it  might  be  to  Johnson's;  wheth- 
er our  horses  would  hold  out  to  carry  us  there; 
what  sort  of  a  chance  it  would  be  after  we  got 


To  JOHXSON'S.  143 


there.  We  were  discussing  that  part  of  the 
problem  which  relates  to  distance,  and  had 
pretty  satisfactorily  proved  to  ourselves  that 
we  must  be  very  near  our  inn,  when  we  en- 
countered a  camp  of  wagons.  We  eagerly  in- 
quired, 'How  far  to  Johnson's?'  and  I  leave 
my  readers  to  judge  of  our  feelings  when  it 
was  replied,  'About  four  miles.'  Alas!  four 
miles  yet  to  go!  It  was  a  perfect  damper,  but 
it  was  no  use  to  fret  -so  on  we  went,  with  a 
sort  of  desperate  resignation  to  our  fate.  After 
many  a  weary  step,  at  length  we  came  close  to 
a  little  twinkling  light,  which  we  found  to  pro- 
ceed from  our  long-sought  resting-place,  John- 
son's tavern.  We  dismounted,  and  took  pos- 
session of  the  fire-place,  for  we  were  both  wet 
and  fatigued.  The  good  people  gave  us  sup- 
per, and  for  the  first  time  since  we  left  Hous- 
ton, my  friend's  appetite  did  not  serve  him; 
however,  we  got  through  our  supper  and  found 
our  way  to  bed. 

"And  now  a  word  or  two  as  to  our  house  and 
its  accommodations,  in  order  to  give  my  reader 
some  view  of  the  comforts  of  our  condition. 


144  Dr.  Summers. 


The  house  was  built  partly  of  brick,  partly  of 
wood;  the  floor  partly  of  brick,  and  partly  of 
dirt;  the  whole  of  it  level  with  the  surface  of 
the  ground.  It  stood  on  the  banks  of  Jolm- 
Bon's  Bayou,  and  that  had  very  recently  over- 
flowed its  banks,  and  had  invaded  the  house 
itself,  so  that  the  old  lady  told  me  they  had 
to  '  wade  to  bed! '  The  wat^r  had  just  receded 
and  left  the  floor  thickly  coated  with  mud. 
Over  this  we  laid  a  bridge  of  boards,  and  thus 
found  our  way  to  the  bed,  which,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  hearth,  was  the  only  dry  place 
about  the  house.  Our  supper  consisted  as  us- 
ual of  corn-bread,  fried  pork,  and  coffee  with- 
out milk  or  sugar.  And  the  same  description 
will  answer  for  our  breakfast  next  morning, 
which  we  took  at  an  early  hour,  and  then  were 
again  in  the  saddle  for  Houston,  which  we 
reached  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  found  the 
steamer  had  not  yet  arrived  from  Galveston." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

TO  ALABAMA— MARRIED. 

WHILE  in  Tuscaloosa  on  his  mission  for 
his  churches  in  Texas,  in  September, 
1843,  Mr.  Summers  had  met  Miss  N.  B.  Sexton, 
a  young  lady  whose  handsome  face,  queenly 
figure,  fine  dark  eyes,  and  easy  and  dignified 
carriage  attracted  his  special  attention.  He 
tells  us  that  "the  time  had  come  for  a  change 
of  his  relations  in  life,"  and  that  Miss  Sexton 
had  been  recommended  to  him  by  competent 
judges  as  a  suitable  lady  for  an  itinerant 
preacher's  wife.  When,  as  in  this  case,  the 
advice  of  friends  coincides  with  one's  own  feel- 
ings, it  is  usually  accepted.  And  so,  on  leav- 
ing Galveston,  January,  1844,  he  took  the 
shortest  route  to  Tuscaloosa,  where  he  had 
been  stationed  by  Bishop  Soule,  who  had  been 
apprised  of  his  wish  to  be  transferred.  On 
the  last  day  of  the  same  month  he  was  duly 
married  to  the  dark-eyed  and  stately  Alabama 
lady,  whose  attractions  may  have  been  (uncon- 
10  (145) 


146  Dr.  Summers. 


Bciously  to  him)  part  of  the  influence  that  drew 
him  away  from  Texas. 

Tuscaloosa  was  at  that  day  a  charming  place, 
famous  for  its  good  society,  its  refined  hospi- 
tality, and  its  warm  religious  atmosphere.  It 
embodied  much  of  what  was  best  in  Alabama 
life  before  the  great  changes  made  by  the  war 
between  the  States.  His  pastorates  in  Tusca- 
loosa were  delightful  seasons  in  his  life,  and  he 
always  spoke  of  the  place  with  affectionate  en- 
thusiasm. 

At  the  next  session  of  the  Alabama  Confer- 
ence, which  was  held  in  "Wetumpka,  he  was 
stationed  in  Livingston.  That  year  (1845)  he 
attended  the  Louisville  Convention,  of  which 
body  he  was  made  Secretary.  He  had  very 
decidedly  espoused  tlie  Southern,  or  as  he 
called  it,  "the  constitutional  side"  of  the 
question  which  divided  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church  into  two  jurisdictions,  and  cor- 
dially approved  the  action  of  the  South  as 
expressed  in  primary  meetings,  of  which  per- 
haps the  first  whose  proceedings  were  pub- 
lished was  his  own  Quarterly  Conference  in 


Sent  to  Mobile.  147 

Tuscaloosa.  He  yielded  very  reluctantly  to 
the  change  of  name,  believing  that  the  South- 
ern Churcii  is  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
in  the  United  States  of  America.  At  the  same 
time  he  was  not  disposed  to  impeach  the  mo- 
tives of  the  majority  in  the  General  Conference 
of  1844.  His  celerity,  accuracy^,  retentive  mem- 
ory, and  commanding  voice  made  his  services 
very  valuable  as  Secretary  to  that  body,  whose 
action  was  fraught  with  such  momentous  con- 
sequences to  Methodism  in  the  United  States. 
On  all  test  questions  he  stood  with  those  hold- 
ing the  most  pronounced  Southern  sentiments. 
In  his  views  of  the  social  and  political  issues 
of  the  times,  as  in  his  theology,  he  was  no 
trimmer;  he  halted  at  no  half-way  house;  to 
him  a  thing  was  right  or  wrong;  and  he  was 
for  it  or  against  it.  But  he  knew  when  to  be 
prudently  silent,  and  no  bitterness  was  ever 
mingled  with  the  ardor  of  his  opposition. 

At  the  Alabama  Conference,  held  in  Mobile 
in  1846,  he  was  stationed  at  St.  Francis  Street 
Church,  in  that  city.  But  having  been  elected 
delegate  to  the  General  Conference,  held  in 


148  T)r.  Summers. 


Petersburg,  Virginia,  May,  1846,  he  had  scarce- 
ly begun  his  work  in  Mobile  before  he  was 
summoned  away  from  his  charge.  He  was 
elected  by  the  General  Conference  assistant 
editor  of  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate.  Ac- 
cordingly, in  June,  1846,  he  repaired  to  Charles- 
ton, and  became  associated  with  Dr.  W.  M. 
Wightman  in  the  editorship  of  that  paper. 
The  friendship  that  sprung  up  between  these 
two  men  at  this  time  was  of  the  closest  kind, 
and  continued  through  life.  They  were  alike 
in  their  earnest  piety,  in  their  studiousness  and 
scholarly  tastes,  and  in  their  intense  devotion 
to  Methodism  as  it  came  from  the  fathers. 
But  they  were  unlike  in  temperament  and 
physical  characteristics.  Wightman  yvas  ex- 
ceedingly dignified  in  his  bearing,  and  precise 
in  speech ;  Summers  w^as  mercurial,  almost  rol- 
licking in  manner,  and  a  marvel  ©f  verbal  flu- 
ency; Wightman  measured  his  words,  and  even 
in  his  most  impassioned  bursts  in  the  pulpit 
made  his  voluminous  i)eriods  keep  step  like 
the  trained  battalions  of  an  army;  Summers, 
though  exact  in  the  use  of  words,  surprised  his 


Tivo  Friends.  149 


hearers  or  readers  by  unexpected  but  harmless 
paradoxes,  or  sudden  bursts  of  feeling,  or 
flashes  of  humor;  Wightmau  roused  himself 
for  great  occasions,  and  seldom  fell  below  their 
demands;  Summers  was  always  unflagging  in 
his  mental  energy,  and  the  stream  of  his  thought 
was  unfailing  as  a  mountain  spring.  They  were 
thus  drawn  together  by  spiritual  afiinities  and 
happy  temperamental  differences,  and  their 
friendship  was  of  the  kind  that  lasts.  No  two 
men  ever  had  truer  love  for  each  other;  no  two 
men  ever  reacted  on  each  other  more  benefi- 
cially. It  was  a  friendship  for  time  and  eter- 
nity. 

The  General  Conference  had  appointed  a 
committee  to  compile  a  new  hymn-book  for 
the  Church.  This  committee  consisted  of 
Thomas  O.  Summers,  W.  M.  Wightman,  J. 
Hamilton,  Whitefoord  Smith,  and  A.  B.  Long- 
street.  Mr.  Summers  was  made  chairman.  He 
bestowed  great  labor  on  this  work,  for  which 
he  possessed  special  qualifications.  But  it  was 
indeed  a  labor  of  love  to  him.  It  was  like 
shutting    him    in  with   Charles   Wesley   and 


160  Dn.  S  VMM  Ens. 

"Watts  and  Cowper  and  Doddridge,  and  the 
rest  of  the  sweet  singers  of  Israel,  in  a 
lengthened  symposium.  In  April,  1847,  he  went 
to  New  York,  where  he  spent  six  laborious 
weeks  in  passing  the  Hymn-book  through  the 
press.  Overwork  impaired  his  health,  and 
kept  him  out  of  the  pulpit  for  awhile — which 
was  a  great  trial,  for  no  man  ever  loved  to 
preach  more  than  this  busy,  book-loving  man. 
But  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  assured 
by  men  well  qualified  to  judge  that  he  and  his 
colleagues  had  been  successful  in  bringing  out 
the  best  hymn-book  in  the  English  language. 
The  loss  of  health  was  abundantly  compensated 
by  such  a  consideration. 

It  may  seem  a  little  like  boasting  to  set  up 
the  claim  that  this  hymn-book  is  the  best  in 
the  English  language.  But  both  its  negative 
and  positive  merits  justify  the  claim.  It  is 
free  from  false  or  loose  theology;  from  infe- 
rior and  faulty  poetry  as  such — what  is  vague 
and  mystical  on  the  one  hand,  and  puerile  and 
weakly  sentimental  on  the  other;  and  from 
the  tinkerings  and  alterations  by  which  so 


A  Hymnologist.  151 


many  conceited  poetasters  have  assumed  to 
improve  the  sacred  lyrics  of  real  poets.  These 
are  negative  excellences;  the  positive  ones  are 
as  notable.  The  classification  of  the  hymns 
is  admirable,  well-nigh  perfect;  the  space  al- 
lotted to  the  different  topics  is  in  most  in- 
stances proportioned  to  their  relative  impor- 
tance and  the  extent  for  which  they  will  be 
needed  for  practical  use;  not  only  the  best  re- 
ligious poems  as  such  were  chosen,  but  by  a 
subtle  spiritual  instinct  the  choice  was  con- 
fined to  those  that  had  the  unmistakable  evan- 
gelical afflatus,  Charles  Wesley's  seraphic 
strains  leading  the  sacred  choir.  That  little 
Wesleyan  hymn-book  brought  across  the  sea 
made  Summers  a  hymnologist,  and  was  the  seed 
from  which  sprung  the  volume  whose  songs 
are  sung  by  the  vast  multitudes  of  living  Meth- 
odists, '^s  they  were  sung  by  the  great  company 
of  our  holy  dead  who  now  sing  the  new  song 
in  heaven. 

If  Mr.  Summers  had  rendered  no  other 
service  to  the  Church  than  the  preparation  of 
this  Hymn-book,  his  name  would  deserve  an 


152  Dr.  Summers. 


honorable  place  among  those  who  have  been 
made  conspicuous  by  their  superior  abilities 
and  eminent  services  to  the  Church. 

The  curious  reader  mentally  asks  the  ques- 
tion :  Where  did  this  man,  who  never  enjoyed 
the  advantages  of  regular  classical  instruction, 
get  the  knowledge  of  the  art  of  versification, 
the  purity  and  severity  of  taste,  the  delicacy  of 
ear,  and  the  microscopic  attention  to  detail 
that  fitted  him  for  this  work?  The  answer  is: 
He  had  a  genius  for  literature  and  for  work — 
and  there  is  no  accounting  for  genius;  it  learns 
the  apparently  unknowable,  and  attempts  and 
accomplishes  the  seemingly  impossible. 

About  the  time  this  work  was  finished,  the 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  on 
Mr.  Summers  by  Enter  College,  Texas — named 
for  Dr.  Martin  Enter,  the  first  Methodist  who 
ever  wore  the  title.  The  reader  will  pardon 
this  anachronism. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LIFE   IN    CHARLESTON. 

FROM  the  date  of  his  editorial  connection 
with  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate  and 
Sunday  School  Visitor,  Dr.  Summers  exhibited 
the  characteristics  that  gave  him  a  place  in  the 
estimation  of  his  Church  altogether  unique. 
The  first  sentiment  that  he  inspired  was  that 
of  astonishment  at  his  wonderful  capacity  for 
work.  It  seemed  to  his  colleague,  Dr.  Wight- 
man,  and  to  all  others  in  close  relation  to  him, 
that  he  was  almost  tireless  and  sleepless.  He 
wrote  voluminously,  he  read  omnivorously,  he 
preached  continually.  He  was  a  marvel  to 
those  cultured  and  dignified  Carolinians.  They 
soon  learned  to  respect  and  admire  him.  His 
Christian  zeal,  his  inexhaustible  resources  of 
Biblical  and  historical  and  literary  information, 
the  immense  energy  he  put  into  all  that  he  did, 
gave  them  to  know  that  a  live  man  and  a  strong 
man  had  come  among  them.  And  soon  they 
began  to  love  him.     They  found  that  while 

do.".) 


154  Dr.  Summers. 


there  was  no  voice  and  manner  more  self- 
assertive  and  imperious,  there  was  no  kinder 
heart  than  his.  If  he  was  quick  to  point  out 
an  error  in  doctrine,  in  historical  allusion,  or 
in  quotation,  he  was  no  less  quick  to  speak  a 
word  or  do  a  deed  of  kindness.  The  choicest 
spirits  of  the  Methodist  and  other  Churches, 
by  the  sure  instinct  by  which  the  best  and  the 
worst  alike  flow  together,  took  him  to  their 
hearts,  to  hold  him  there  througli  life.  The 
scholarly  and  great-hearted  Dr.  Bachman  rec- 
ognized in  him  a  kindred  spirit,  and  it  was  de- 
lightful to  see  how  the  brilliant  and  noble  Lu- 
theran and  the  irrepressible,  cyclopedic  young 
Wesleyan  loved  each  other.  The  learned,  elo- 
quent, and  pure-souled  Presbyterian  pastor,  Dr. 
Edgar,  also  found  in  Summers  the  qualities 
which  excite  sincere  admiration  and  warm  and 
lasting  friendship.  He  touched  the  religious  so- 
ciety of  Charleston  at  many  points,  and  in  all  the 
circles  in  which  he  moved  he  was  regarded  as 
a  man  no  less  remarkable  for  his  high  Chris- 
tian character  than  for  his  extraordinaiy  intel- 
lectual abilities.  These  friendships  lasted  to  the 


A  True  Fbiend.  155 

end  of  the  natural  lives  of  the  parties,  as  might 
have  been  expected.  Many  have  been  repelled 
at  first  by  the  mannerisms  of  Summers,  but  it  is 
doubted  whether  in  all  his  life  he  ever  lost  a 
friend  who  got  close  enough  to  him  to  be  en- 
titled to  that  sacred  appellation.  He  was  true, 
and  true  hearts  cleaved  unto  him.  No  man 
could  be  more  faithful  in  trying  to  discover  to 
a  friend  his  errors,  or  more  charitable  in  deal- 
ing with  his  infirmities.  He  could  be  trusted. 
Many  were  the  instances  in  which  a  word 
spoken  in  his  own  bluff,  half-bantering  way 
gave  the  needed  and  effective  caution,  warn- 
ing, or  reproof;  more  numerous  were  the  in- 
stances in  which  a  word  of  tender  sympathy 
from  his  lips  dropped  as  balm  upon  the 
troubled  heart.  Thus  are  forged  the  links  in 
the  chain  of  holy  friendships  that  nor  time 
uor  distance  can  break,  and  give  to  Christian 
fellowship  on  earth  that  element  of  permanence 
which  will  be  one  of  its  blessed  characteristics 
when  renewed,  perpetuated,  and  perfected  in 
heaven. 

Chief  and  nearest  and  dearest  of  these  friends 


156  Br.  Summers. 


was  Dr.  Wightman.  Had  they  been  different 
in  character  and  temperament,  they  might  have 
been  rivals.  If  they  had  not  possessed  too 
much  nobility  of  Christian  character,  they  were 
saved  from  the  temptation  from  the  fact  that 
they  were  so  dissimilar.  They  were  not  com- 
petitive; they  were  supplementary  to  each  oth- 
er. Never  did  two  men  work  together  with 
more  pleasure  to  themselves  or  with  more  ad- 
vantage to  the  work  they  had  in  hand.  Their 
souls  were  knit  together  as  Jonathan  and  Da- 
vid. They  were  temperamental  opposites,  but 
their  moral  and  spiritual  affinity  was  perfect. 
From  the  time  they  first  met,  and  looked  at 
and  measured  each  other,  they  began  a  friend- 
ship that  was  without  a  break  or  a  jar  until 
death.  It  was  expected  that  when  the  one 
spoke  of  the  other  there  would  be  a  liberal  use 
of  friendly  but  discriminating  superlatives. 
To  this  none  objected,  for  the  men  were  worthy, 
and  their  friendship  was  beautiful  to  all  be- 
holders. When  his  friend,  after  his  grand  ca- 
reer as  a  Bishop  of  the  Church,  died  before 
him,  it  was  fitting  that  Summers  should  be 


The  Old  Days.  157 

chosen  to  deliver  his  funeral-oration  in  the 
chapel  of  the  Vanderbilt  University. 

Waiving  strict  chronological  and  literary 
unity,  we  introduce  here  a  letter  from  a  mutual 
friend  of  Wightman  and  Summers,  a  noble 
Christian  gentleman  who  was  one  of  the  inner 
circle  of  friends  during  those  dear  old  Charles- 
ton days.  The  exuberance  of  Christian  affec- 
tion will  not  be  objected  to  by  the  readers  for 
whom  this  book  is  written: 

Pelzer,  S.  C,  April  26,  1882. 
Rev.  T.  O.  Summers,  D.D.,  Nashville,  Tenn. 

My  Dear  Doctor:  I  want  the  Nashville  Advocate,  and  pro- 
pose to  send  the  money  for  a  year's  subscription  through 
you,  thereby  embracing  another  opportunity  of  exchanging 
love-greetings,  and  renewing  the  friendship  of  the  years 
gone  by.  I  know  that  you  are  always  busy,  very  busy — al- 
ways toiling  and  drudging.  This  is  Dr.  Summers's  mode 
of  working.  Fast,  hard,  successful  labor  is  the  characteris- 
tic of  his  life  and  being.  Really,  my  dear  old  friend,  there 
is  not  a  more  appropriate  and  perfect  illustration  of  Solo- 
mon's instruction,  "Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do 
it  with  thy  might,"  than  your  life-work.  All  the  energies 
of  body,  mind,  and  soul,  exercised  to  their  utmost  tension, 
are  contributed  and  daily  expended  in  the  noblest  service 
which  men  or  angels  are  honored  to  render  as  a  free-will 


158  Dr.  Summers. 


offering;  and  the  Church  and  the  world  feel  the  thrill  of 
the  vital,  spiritual  force  of  the  instrumentality  so  vigor- 
ouslj  and  continuously  propelling  the  grand  machinery  of 
the  blessed  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God. 

Pardon  me  for  this  digression;  I  could  not  avoid  it. 
Your  large  heart,  fertile  mind,  and  willing  hand,  as  1  have 
realized  these  expressions  in  the  historj'  of  the  past,  testify 
to  the  correctness  and  honesty  of  all  I  have  written  of  you ; 
and  you  must  endure  the  infliction — accept  the  terms  of 
commendation  without  offense,  excusing  the  friend  who  is 
doubtless  as  sensitive  on  this  point  as  you  are,  but  who 
must,  nevertheless,  thank  you,  if  in  so  doing  he  cannot 
■withhold  the  praise  due  to  such  a  life-long  devotion  to  the 
interest  of  Methodism  and  Christianity. 

I  write  in  great  haste,  as  usual,  and  only  wish  to  send 
you  my  love,  unabated  and  unchangeable.  O  the  past,  with 
its  halloweil  a.ssociations  with  you  and  our  honored,  belovetl, 
and  now  sainted  Wightman !  The  old  establishment  on 
Maiden  Lane  where  you  both  toiled  at  the  Advocate  and 
Visitor — every  thing  in  the  neighborhood  still  reflects  the 
images  of  those  days.  And  our  daily  meetings  and  fre- 
quent,  happy  intercourse  in  the  office  upstairs — the  past- 
is  full  of  such  scenes.  And  do  you  know,  my  dear  friend, 
that  through  the  long  years  that  have  passed  since  these 
occasions,  I  never  think  of  our  Wightman  without  associat- 
ing our  Summers  with  him  in  fragrant  memories  and 
changeless  fellowship?  Your  letter  to  me  last  summer  was 
a  feast  to  our  enfeebled,  suffering,  dying,  but  patient,  hope- 


Communion  of  Souls.  159 

fnl,  and  happy  friend.  He  was  spending  a  few  weeks  on 
the  island,  and  I  was  with  him  for  an  hour  or  two  every 
day.  O  the  benefits  of  such  visitations  1  His  intellect  was 
bright  and  vigorous  as  ever;  his  zeal  and  love  for  Christ 
and  the  Church  unabated;  liis  interest  in  me,  specially  as  a 
minister  of  the  cross  and  friend  beloved,  was  unchanged ;  he 
delighted  in  those  rare  logical  and  metaphysical  exposi- 
tions of  the  sacred  text  of  wliich  he  was  a  master  without 
superior,  if  an  equal,  in  the  pulpit  or  chair.  How  grand 
amid  the  ravages  of  a  long,  lingering  disease,  when  pros- 
trate from  physical  weakness,  these  sublime  processes  of 
reason  and  faith  united  in  the  structure  of  a  "perfect  man," 
one  who  liad  reached  "  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the 
fullness  of  Christ!"  He  read  the  letter,  and  wept  under 
such  emotions  as  I  suppose  stirred  your  loving  heart  when 
you  wrote  it.  And  I  read  it  over  and  over  again,  alone  and 
in  his  presence.  Your  picture  of  the  old  leaky,  creaky 
vessel  in  the  dry-dock  for  repairs,  to  be  caulked,  pitched, 
and  her  timbers  strengthened;  tlien  the  prospect  for  the 
future,  and  the  termination  of  the  last,  long,  perilous,  and 
suffering  voyage;  the  approacli  to  the  harbor,  and  tlie 
glimpses  and  then  distinct  views  of  tlie  hills  and  battle- 
ments of  the  city  of  God ;  and  the  joyous  shout  whicli  rends 
the  air,  *•'  Heaven  I  O  heaven ! "  Brother,  this  was  too  much 
for  us  both ;  the  double  portion  was  dispensed ;  Benjamin's 
mess  was  our  share  on  that  memorable  day.  The  cup  over- 
flowed; joy — real,  unspeakable,  and  heaven-born — thrilled 
his  soul ;  it  must  be  restrained,  liowcver,  or  the  frail  taberna- 


160  Dr.  SvMMEiis. 


cle  will  fall,  the  pitcher  break.  Enough  that  we  had  vis- 
ions of  glory  on  that  day,  such  as  shall  lighten  and  gladden 
my  poor  heart  to  the  end  of  the  pilgrimage.  Our  Wight- 
man  was  filled  with  the  beatific  visions  you  described.  Re- 
sponsive to  your  touch,  faith  became  sight.  There  was  a 
celestial  magnetism  in  those  words  of  triumph  and  hope; 
and  while  the  smiles  and  tears  of  exultant  joy  covered  his 
pale  face,  he  only  whispered,  "Heaven;  yes,  heaven  is 
home  I"  Through  the  intervening  months  from  July  to 
January  following,  I  was  frequently  with  him  in  his  sick- 
chamber  in  Charleston,  and  throughout  there  was  an  abid- 
ing peace,  and  calm,  patient  resignation,  and  a  blissful  as- 
surance that  all  was  well. 

My  ortlination  as  deacon  was  an  event  he  had  anticipated 
for  many  months  previous  to  his  death.  I  did  not,  there- 
fore, attend  Conference  in  December  last,  because  it  was 
both  his  wish  and  mine  that  he  should  perform  the  service. 
He  was  anxious  for  many  weeks  after  the  session,  lest  he 
should  not  recover  strength  sufficient  to  enable  him  to 
accomplish  his  desire.  We  waited  hopefully,  but  the 
prospect  became  daily  more  discouraging.  Watching  the 
changes.  Brother  G.  W.  Williams,  who  daily  and  tenderly 
ministered  at  his  bc<lside  with  the  many  loved  ones  of  his 
household,  discovered  a  temporary  improvement  in  his 
condition,  and  being  urged  by  the  Bishop  to  seize  the  op- 
portunity, I  was  summoned  to  his  bedside,  where  the  Rev. 
A.  Coke  Smith  and  several  friends  had  a.ssenibled  with 
Brother  Williams  to  aid  and  unite  in  the  solemn  ceremonv. 


The  Dying  Bishop.  161 

Kneeling  beside  his  couch,  Brother  Smitli  reading  the  les- 
sons for  the  occasion,  and  propounding  the  questions  in 
form,  the  Bishop,  after  laying  both  his  trembling  hands 
upon  my  head,  in  a  distinct  and  impressive  voice  and  man- 
ner, conferred  on  me  the  authority  to  read  and  preach  the 
word  of  God — his  last  official  act  as  a  Bisliop  of  the  Meth- 
odist Episcopal  Church,  South. 

Can  I  ever  forget  or  fail  to  appreciate  such  a  distin- 
guished favor  and  privilege?  The  honor  of  such  an  ordina- 
tion, the  imposition  of  hands  whose  gentle  touch  and  heroic 
pressure  always  reached  the  heart,  and  aVIiosc  labor  of  love 
through  so  many  eventful  years  dispensed  untold  charities 
— that  such  loving  hands  should,  in  their  last  official  min- 
istrations be  laid  upon  my  unworthy  head  in  imploring 
heavenly  benedictions,  and  conferring  divine  authority  to 
proclaim  "  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ,"  was  so  unde- 
served, and  such  a  legacy  of  love  and  honor,  that  not  only 
through  life,  but  in  the  endless  hereafter,  it  must  constitute 
an  unspeakable  and  imperishable  treasure  of  happiness.  I 
may  not  describe  the  scene  and  its  effects  on  those  who 
gathered  around  the  couch  of  our  rejoicing  friend.  He  was 
now  satisfied;  his  work  was  done.  "Now,"  said  he,  "is  the 
time  for  me  to  go  home;"  and  then,  clasping  my  hanls  in 
his,  and  drawing  me  to  his  side,  he  gently  and  tenderly 
bowed  my  head  upon  his  breast,  and  throwing  his  trembling 
arms  around  my  neck,  imprinted  the  kiss  of  true,  manly 
love  upon  my  lips,  as  the  farewell  of  friendship,  and  the 
last  loving  token  ot"undvingdcrot  inn.     O  the 'realizations. 


1G2  l)n.  SiMMKhs'. 

embracing  the  reunions  and  recognitions,  to  be  broiiglit  at 
tlie  last  full-orbed  "revelation  of  Jesus  Christ  1"  Now 
it  is  an  extensive  and  sweet  "satisfaction,"  this  merov 
of  God  in  Christ,  but  at  best  only  comparative;  then  it 
shall  be  complete  and  perfect,  "when  we  awake  in  I  lis 
likeness." 

You  see  from  the  address  at  the  head  of  tliis  long  letter 
that  I  have  removed  in  my  old  age  from  Charleston  and 
Sullivan's  Island,  where  I  have  lived  from  my  birth.  This 
is  a  new  village,  named  for  my  brother,  F,  J.  Pelzor,  who 
organized  a  large  manufacturing  company  to  be  located 
here.  It  is  a  healthy  and  delightful  country  sixteen  miles 
from  Greenville,  and  I  have  come  hither,  as  I  believe,  un- 
der special  providential  leadings,  and  for  the  purpose  of 
preaching  and  practicing  my  profession  as  M.D.  All  my 
home-folks  unite  with  me  in  nuich  love  to  you  and  dear 
Sister  Summers.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  old  friend  I  Par- 
don me  for  this  long  epistle;  but  I  desire — now  that  our 
mutual  friend  and  brother,  who  formed  one  of  a  loving  trio, 
has  gone  to  enjoy  the  fellowship  and  communion  of  saints-r- 
to  renew  past  friendships  and  exchange  fresh  love-tokens; 
and  hence  this  effusion.  If  there  is  any  thing  written  here 
which  you  think  of  interest  to  the  Church  or  the  public,  I 
cannot  object  to  your  appropriating  some  or  all  of  this 
letter  for  publication.  Please  have  the  Advocate,  which  I 
esteem  highly,  and  which  is  deservedly  popular  in  this  sec- 
tion, sent  to  my  address  as  above.  How  delighted  I  should 
be,  if  you  could  spare  a  few  moments  occasionally  to  write 


Another  Backwaiw  Glance.        163 

me.     Your  devoted  and  affectionate  friend  and  brother  in 
Christ,  George  S.  Pelzer. 

The  following,  from  Mr.  Francis  E.  Shackel- 
ford, a  venerable  Christian  gentleman  now  of 
Atlanta,  Georgia,  is  inserted  here: 

Wlien  Dr.  Summers  was  associated  with  that  great  light 
which  has  gone  out  from  among  us  to  shine  for  evermore  in 
glory,  the  late  Bishop  W.  M.  Wightman,  in  conducting  the 
Southern  Christian  Advocate,  it  was  my  highest  pleasure  to 
•ensconce  myself  in  their  oflSce  and  look  on.  They  were 
workmen  indeed  who  had  no  need  to  be  ashamed,  for  did 
not  all  which  issued  from  that  press  do  good  to  tlie  minds 
and  hearts  of  their  readers?  Dr.  Summers  was  one  of 
the  most  untiring  workers  I  have  ever  seen.  So  absorbed 
would  he  be  in  the  discharge  of  his  official  duties  it  seemed 
to  me  that  should  a  croAvned  head  walk  in  he  would  have 
received  little  or  no  notice — unless  Victoria  herself  had 
appeared;  then  the  gallant  Englishman  would  have  cast 
aside,  very  promptly,  papers  and  Quarterly  Review,  to  make 
his  obeisance  to  Her  Royal  Highness. 

I  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  his  companion  at  night 
when  engaged  in  that  difficult  task  of  culling  from  hymn- 
books  of  every  denomination  which  he  had  received  from 
Europe  as  well  as  America,  the  product  being  that  inimita- 
ble Southern  Hymn-book,  which  has  inspired  in  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  all  God's  people  such  joy  and  thanksgiving. 
We  bless  and  thank  God  for  such  a  chanter  iu  our  Israel  as 


164  Dr.  Summers. 


Charles  Wesley,  and  especially  so  for  the  gift  from  our 
Heavenly  Father's  hand  of  tliat  peerless  man  of  God,  Jolin 
Wesley,  whom  I  should  class  as  being  directly  in  the  apos- 
tolic succession,  if  such  succetssion  were  not  simply  a  myth. 
Let  us  follow  liim  as  he  followed  Christ,  and  all  will  be 
well. 

I  must  not  prolong  this  brief  tribute  to  the  memorj'  of 
our  sainted  Summers,  and  will  only  add  a  word  as  to  the 
effect  produced  by  a  sermon  delivered  by  him  in  Cliarles- 
ton  at  the  Rev.  Dr.  Dana's  church  (Presbyterian),  a  very 
large  audience  in  attendance,  among  them  the  Governor  of* 
the  State  (an  Episcopalian).  Tlie  subject  wjis  the  transla- 
tion of  Enoch.  We  listened  with  rapt  attention.  It  was 
the  Doctor's  happiest  effort.  I  had  often  heard  him  in  our 
Charleston  pulpits.  He  made  a  novel  reflection  in  his 
closing  remarks.  He  said  others  might  prefer  translation 
like  Enoch,  but  he  did  not  desire  that  mode  of  departure 
from  the  world ;  as  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  he  would  rather  con- 
tinue to  follow  his  Lortl  even  down  to  the  tomb,  and  rest 
with  him  there  until  the  resurrection-day.  AVho  can  doubt 
our  dear  brother's  ascension  on  that  great  day  of  <Jay8  to 
the  loving  arms  of  his  blessed  Saviour?  After  the  bene- 
diction, the  Governor  approaclied  us  and  requested  to  be 
introduced  to  the  preacher.  He  most  earnestly  thanked 
him  for  his  sermon,  and  told  how  very  much  he  had  en- 
joyed it.  . 

I  have  said  he  had  his  peculiarities,  often  growing  out 
of  Iiis  entire  absorption  in  any  work  he  had  in  hand.    It 


Dr.  Smith's  Reminiscences.         165 

was  his  custom  in  rising  up  in  the  pulpit  to  preach  to  lay 
his  watcli  before  him;  it  might  as  well  have. remained  in 
his  fob,  for  his  eyes  were  never  in  that  direction.  He 
would  go  on  declaring  the  truth  of  God  irrespective  of  time, 
and  our  only  regret  was  when  wearied  nature  stood  still. 
God  bless  the  life  and  memory  of  Dr.  Summers  to  all  who 
may  read  and  study  it !        Francis  K.  Shackelford. 

The  Eev.  Dr.  Wliitef oord  Smith,  of  the  South 
Carolina  Conference,  who  was  thrown  into  per- 
sonal and  official  association  with  Summers  at 
this  period  in  his  life,  furnishes  these  charac- 
teristic touches: 

My  acquaintance  with  the  late  Dr.  Summers  began  at 
the  Louisville  Convention  in  1845,  when  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  South,  was  organized.  I  met  him  again 
in  1846,  at  Petersburg,  Virginia,  at  our  first  General  Con- 
ference. He  was  then  elected  to  the  assistant  editorship 
of  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate,  which  was  published  at 
Cliarleston,  South  Carolina.  We  were  appointed  together 
at  that  Conference  on  the  committee  to  compile  a  hymn- 
book  for  the  use  of  the  Church,  South.  I  was  then  stationed 
at  Trinity  Church,  in  Charleston.  Before  removing  his 
family  to  Charleston,  he  came  to  the  city  and  spent  a  day 
or  two  with  me.  One  night,  while  he  was  with  us,  I  heard 
a  great  crash  as  if  some  large  piece  of  furniture  had  fallen, 
and  having  learned  from  Dr.  Summers  that  he  sometimes 


166  l>ii'  Sum  ME  lis. 


wulked  in  bis  sleep,  I  was  alarmed,  thinking  that  perhaps 
he  had  been  .doing  something  of  the  kind  and  had  met  with 
a  serious  fall.  Striking  a  light,  I  went  to  the  third  story 
where  he  was  sleeping,  and  was  relieved  to  find  him  quietly 
asleep.  I  then  searched  the  lower  rooms  of  the  house,  hut 
could  find  nothing  amiss.  My  library  was  in  the  third 
story,  in  the  room  op]X)site  to  that  occupied  by  the  Doctor. 
The  next  morning  we  discussed  the  subject  of  the  ghost,  but 
could  form  no  conjecture  as  to  the  cause  of  the  noise,  until 
going  to  my  study  I  found  one  of  my  sets  of  shelves  had 
fallen,  and  a  pile  of  books  lay  heaped  u\K>n  the  floor.  This 
solved  the  riddle. 

The  committee  appointed  to  compile  the  hymn-book 
consisted  of  Thomas  O.  Summers,  William  M.  "NVightman, 
Whitefoonl  Smith,  A.  B.  Longstreet,  and  Jefferson  Hamil- 
ton. Judge  Ijongstreet  being  in  Georgia,  and  Dr.  Hamil- 
ton in  Alabama,  the  work  devolved  upon  the  other  three, 
who  were  in  Charleston,  South  Carolina.  Very  pleasant 
are  the  recollections  which  still  linger  around  those  after- 
noons and  evenings  which  were  spent  in  that  work.  To 
Dr.  Summers  belongs  the  chief  credit  of  this  production. 
He  went  into  it,  as  he  usually  did  in  any  thing  he  under- 
took, with  his  whole  soul.  The  canons  which  were  agreed 
upon  to  govern  us  in  our  work  involvctl  no  small  amount 
of  labor.  It  would  frequently  happen  that  a  good  hymn 
would  be  found  in  sevenil  different  forms  in  different  col- 
lections. One  of  our  rules  was,  wherever  jxjssible  to  give 
tiie  hymn  as  written  by  its  author,  and  not  as  changed  by 


Hymn-book  Making.  167 

some  compiler,  who  thought  he  could  improve  upon  the 
original.  To  do  this  often  required  extensive  research. 
But  sometimes  a  hymn,  which  in  its  modified  form  was 
both  desirable  and  popular,  would  not  do  at  all  as  the  au- 
thor wrote  it.     An  instance  of  this  kind  occurred  in  hymn 

145: 

He  dies!  the  Friend  of  sinners  dies!  etc. 

As  it  appears  in  Dr.  Watts's  Lyric  Poems,  it  begins : 

He  dies*!  the  heavenly  Lover  dies! 

The  tidings  strike  a  doleful  sound 
On  my  dear  heart-strings:  deep  he  lies 

In  the  cold  caverns  of  the  ground. 
Come,  saints,  and  drop  a  tear  or  two 

On  the  dear  bosom  of  your  God,  etc. 

Dr.  Summers  was  bitterly  opposed  to  the  use  of  sucJi 
erotic  expressions,  and  as  the  changes  so  greatly  improved 
the  hymn,  it  was  adopted  in  the  altered  form,  the  commit- 
tee making  one  other  alteration  of  their  own  by  changing 
the  comparative  "richer"  into  the  superlative  "richest," 
giving  force  to  the  antithesis  between  tears  and  blood. 

No  hymn  was  allowed  to  go  into  the  book  unless  the 
name  of  the  author  could  be  given,  except  in  cases  of  un- 
usual merit.  A  few  were  admitted,  though  inferior,  only 
because  they  were  hallowed  in  the  affections  of  the  people, 
and  identified  with  the  histor}-  of  Methodism. 

The  patience  and  perseverance  of  Dr.  Summers  were 
conspicuous  in  this  work,  and  the  genial  spirit  of  the  man 
contributed  largely  to  the  pleasure  of  our  meetings. 

When  the  Hymn-book  was  completed,  as  is  well  known, 


168  Dr.  Summebs. 


it  root  with  the  warm  approval  not  only  of  our  own  Church 
but  of  the  public  generally,  and  of  critics  well  qualified  to 
judge.  The  Rev.  Dr.  A.  W.  Leland,  of  the  Presbyterian 
Theological  Seminary  at  Columbia,  spoke  of  it  in  terms  of 
the  highest  commendation,  pronouncing  it  the  best  collec- 
tion he  had  seen.  Dr.  Summers  regarded  it  as  "  the  Litur- 
gy" of  our  Church,  and  was  happy  in  frequently  quoting 
from  it  in  his  sermons.  As  the  last  surviving  member  of 
the  committee,  who  after  a  year  of  labor  presented  it  to 
the  Church,  I  confess  to  great  regret  in  seeing  it  discarded 
so  largely  from  our  Sunday-schools,  and  even  from  our  con- 
gregations, and  substituted  by  the  jigs  and  jingles  and  in- 
ferior poetry  now  in  such  common  use.  To  this  may  be 
attributed  in  large  measure  the  ignorance  of  our  doctrines 
on  the  part  of  the  young  members  of  our  Church,  and  the 
tendency  to  heterodoxy  among  some  of  the  older  ones. 

During  his  residence  in  Charleston,  Dr.  Summers  was 
always  ready  to  render  assistance  to  the  pastors  of  our 
Churches  both  in  the  pulpit  and  in  all  other  pastoral  duties. 
Nor  was  his  ministry  confined  to  the  pulpits  of  his  own  do- 
nomination.  He  was  equally  ready  to  aid  his  bretliren  of 
other  Churches,  and  among  the  various  congregations  of  the 
city  his  services  were  always  most  acceptable. 

The  yellow  fever  prevailed  in  Charleston  in  two  years 
of  my  ministry  there.  On  these  occasions  I  found  Dr. 
Summers  a  valuable  friend  and  heliMjr  in  visiting  the  sick 
and  burying  the  dead.  When  my  services  were  demanded 
for  two  ftmerals  at  the  same  hour,  lie  readily  attended  to 


Among  Sinners.  169 

one  while  I  attended  to  the  otlier.    When  I  needed  cora- 
|jany  in  visiting  the  sick,  I  had  only  to  ask  him  and  he  was 
i-eady  to  go.     I  remember  a  case  very  illustrative  of  his 
character.    One  night  I  was  called  on  to  visit  a  young  wom- 
an who  was  very  ill  with  yellow  fever  at  a  disreputable 
liouse  in  Berresford  street.     Thinking  it  most  prudent  not 
to  go  alone,  I  secured  the  company  of  old  Brother  Muckin- 
fuss  and  visited  the  sufferer.     It  was  at  one  of  the  most 
fashionable  and  elegant  establishments  of  its  kind.     After 
conversation  and  prayer  with  the  sick,  I  promised  to  return 
the  next  day  and  see  whether  she  was  still  living.     On  riiy 
Avay,  I  called  at  the  office  of  the  Southern  Advocate  and  men- 
tioned the  case  to  Dr.  Summers,  and  asked  him  to  accom- 
pany me.     He  assented  immediately,  and  we  walked  to- 
gether.    It  so  happened  that  an  election  was  taking  place 
that  day,  and  the  poll  was  open  at  an  engine-house  next 
door  to  the  house  where  we  were  going.     I  stopped  for  a 
moment  to  speak  to  the  managers,  and  mentioned  the  case 
of  fever  next  door.     The  patient  Avas  a  handsome  young 
woman,  who  seemed  very  penitent,  and,  as  usual,  made 
promises  of  a  change  of  life  if  God  would  spare  her.     Dr. 
Summers's  sympathies  were  much  moved.     I  asked  hira  to 
pray.     The  passage-way  and  stairs  were  lined  with  the 
young  women  of  the  house.    He  took  his  chair  and  kneeled 
near  the  door,  and  in  a  tone  of  voice  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  through  the  house  he  prayed  not  only  for  the  sick 
but  for  the  keeper  of  the  house  and  for  all  its  nnfortiinate 
inmates.     As  we  returned,  some  one  at  the  poll  asked  liow 


170  Dii.  Summers. 


vrc  found  the  patient,  to  which  I  replied:  "To  my  surprise, 
better;  and  hopes  may  be  entertained  of  her  recovery." 
^Vitll  tliat  peculiar  brusqiieness  that  characterized  him,  Dr. 
Summers  exclaimed,  "The  man  who  seduced  that  girl  ought 
to  have  a  bullet  put  through  his  heart!"  Pcwr  thing!  she 
recovered,  only  to  add  another  to  the  catalogue  of  those 
who  are  penitent  when  sick  and  in  sight  of  death,  but  who, 
when  health  returns,  go  back  to  their  evil  ways. 

It  would  be  difficult  for  any  one  not  intimately  acquaint- 
ed with  the  late  Dr.  Summers  to  form  any  just  idea  of  the 
man.  On  first  acquaintance  he  would  appear  dogmatic, 
brusque,  and  almost  rude;  but  upon  more  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  him,  he  was  found  to  be  tender  and  affectionate, 
gentle  and  sympathizing.  lie  was  a  sincere  and  true  man, 
full  of  kindness  and  love.  The  more  you  knew  him  the 
more  you  priseed  and  loved  him.  He  was  an  earnest  and 
intense  student,  but  simple  as  a  child  in  regard  to  worldly 
business.  His  Father's  business  was  the  one  engrossing 
thought  of  his  life,  and  to  that  all  his  energies  were  de- 
voted. His  taste  was  generally  chaste  and  correct,  though 
at  times  he  indulged  in  the  use  of  archaic  words,  and  thoso 
which  were  rather  above  the  heads  of  many  of  his  hearen». 

My  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Summers  ripened  into  an  af- 
fectionate friendship,  which  continued  until  his  death.  We 
were  very  nearly  of  the  same  age,  he  havlnf  been  lx)rn  in 
October,  1812,  and  I  in  November  of  the  same  year.  The 
liist  letter  I  wrote  him  was  shortly  before  his  death,  in 
which  I  suggested  that  if  a  life  of  the  late  Bishop  "Wight- 


Christ-likeness.  171 


man  should  be  undertaken,  he  was  the  most  proper  person 
to  do  it.  I  little  thought  then  how  soon  he  would  be 
called  to  join  his  friend  in  the  land  where  friendships  are 
IJerpetual.  Whitefookd  Smith. 

The  incident  here  related  by  Dr.  Smith  is 
characteristic.  The  Christ-like  pity  for  the 
sinning  woman  and  the  flaming  indignation 
toward  her  betrayer  were  expressions  of  a  nat- 
ure tender  yet  strong.  He  yearned  over  the 
sins  and  sorrows  of  a  fallen  humanity,  but  he 
was  no  weak  sentimentalist.  He  was  capable 
of  a  virtuous,  intense  abhorrence  of  sin,  and 
had  no  liking  for  the  rose-water  theories  that 
left  retribution  out  of  the  moral  government 
of  a  merciful  and  righteous  God. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

TO  GREENSBORO,  ALABAMA 
rinHE  opulent  and  liberal-minded  Method- 
-L  ists  of  that  fertile  region  of  Alabama  in 
1858  projected  at  Greensboro  a  school  of  high 
grade  for  the  education  of  their  sons,  and  gave 
it  the  name  of  the  Southern  University.  Dr. 
W.  M.  Wightman  (afterward  Bishop)  accepted 
the  chancellorship,  and  with  him  were  asso- 
ciated a  faculty  consisting  of  some  of  the  best 
educators  in  the  South,  first-rate  men  in  their 
several  departments,  among  whom  was  Dr.  Sum- 
mers. It  was  a  luxury  to  a  man  like  Summers 
to  live  and  labor  with  men  like  these.  It  was  a 
select  little  circle.  Of  the  massive  and  polished 
Wightman  mention  has  already  been  made. 

There  was  Dr.  Edward  Wads  worth,  a  Cava- 
lier in  courage,  a  Puritan  in  scrupulous  piety, 
a  precisian  in  the  professor's  chair,  a  batteiy 
charged  with  evangelical  power  in  the  pulpit 
As  a  preacher,  he  searched  his  hearers  as  with  a 
lighted  candle,  flashing  Kinriiual  iiiuiiiiuatit»u 
(172) 


Edwabd  Wadsworth.  173 

into  the  most  secret  recesses  of  their  hearts. 
He  adopted  a  high  standard  of  Christian  ex- 
perience, and  dared  not  to  live  below  it.  He 
shunned  not  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of 
God.  The  word  of  truth  was  spoken  by  him  with 
such  plainness  of  speech,  and  aj)plied  with  such 
pointedness  and  power,  that  it  went  crashing 
through  all  the  defenses  of  sin  until  the  sinner 
lay  with  a  broken  and  contrite  heart  at  the  foot 
of  the  cross.  He  knew  how  with  exquisite 
skill  and  tenderness  to  pour  in  the  oil  of  evan- 
gelical consolation  until  the  bones  v/hicli  had 
been  broken  by  the  hammer  of  the  word  were 
made  to  rejoice.  He  was  lucid  in  exposition 
of  the  sacred  text,  rarely  failing  to  leave  in  the 
mind  of  every  intelligent  hearer  a  permanent 
deposit  of  truth.  He  said  much,  and  suggest- 
ed much  more  to  the  receptive  mind.  In  him 
the  directness,  the  fervor  and  faithfulness  of 
the  Methodism  of  Virginia  and  North  Caroli- 
na in  the  days  of  Leigh  and  Skidmore  and 
Peter  Doub  were  combined  with  the  logic  and 
polish  of  the  schools.  The  product  was  a  mas- 
terly preacher  and  a  teacher  who  could  indeed 


174  Db.  Summers. 


teach.  He  was  too  conscientious  to  be  shallow 
or  slipshod  either  in  tlie  lecture-room  or  tiie 
pulpit.  Honesty  and  lucidity  of  thought  are 
not  inseparable,  but  are  apt  to  be  found  in 
company  with  each  other.  Tall,  slender,  grace- 
ful, with  a  scholarly  face  whose  gravity  of  ex- 
pression was  relieved  by  the  serenity  left  upon 
it  by  the  touch  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  still 
hours  when  in  the  place  of  secret  prayer 
he  lifted  his  heart  to  God  and  got  answers 
of  x>eace  —  Edward  Wadsworth,  the  eloquent 
preacher,  the  faithful  pastor,  the  skillful  teach- 
er, the  true  Christian  gentleman,  was  called 
home  to  heaven  in  1881,  but  his  memory  and 
his  work  abide. 

There,  too,  was  Prof.  N.  T.  Lupton,  then 
quite  a  young  man,  but  already  exhibiting  the 
genius  for  physical  science,  the  ability  as  a 
lecturer,  the  skillful  manipulatiorv  in  the  labo- 
ratory, and  the  public  spirit  that  have  given 
him  so  much  weight  as  a  citizen  and  educator. 
Prof.  J.  C.  Wills,  a  clear-cut  thinker  and  able 
mathematician,  full  of  energy  and  high  pro- 
fessional enthusiasm,  was  another  of  his  col- 


With  the  Alabamiaks.  175 

leagues.  A  career  of  brilliant  promise  was  cut 
short  by  liis  death  in  Missouri  a  few  years  aft- 
erward. 

The  society  at  Greensboro  received  wide- 
awake, ever-active,  individualistic  Summers 
into  its  bosom  with  true  Southern  heartiness. 
The  De  Yamperts,  the  Waltons,  the  Garretts, 
and  others  —  families  that  could  claim  good 
blood  and  good  manners,  and  had  large  reve- 
nues— were  there,  the  unpretentious  aristocra- 
cy of  that  rich  "canebrake"  region  in  which 
the  cotton  crop  was  heavy,  each  planter  owning 
many  acres,  and  ruling  a  large  Africo- Ameri- 
can dependency. 

Thus  brought  again  to  Alabama,  Summers 
formed  new  ties  which  bound  him  indissolubly 
to  her  people.  The  Alabamians  were  hospita- 
ble to  him.  They  were  not  slow  to  discern  hjs 
worth;  and  having  taken  him  to  their  hearts, 
they  held  him  to  the  last.  And  how  he  loved 
Alabama!  There  was  a  tenderness  in  his  very 
tones  when  he  spoke  of  her.  In  all  perplexi- 
ties, conflicts,  and  sorrows,  he  looked  thither 
for  counsel,  support,  and  sympathy.     "Grand 


176  Dn.  Summers. 

old  Alabama!  may  her  beautiful  name  be  em- 
blematic of  her  people's  rest  in  heaven!"  was 
the  exclamation  of  a  gifted  man  whose  fate  is 
a  perpetual  sorrow  to  the  Church.  Summers 
could  have  given  a  hearty  Amen  to  this  bene- 
diction during  all  the  last,  most  fruitful  years 
of  his  life.  And  when  we  think  of  the  men 
that  were  his  associates  in  the  Alabama  Con- 
ference, there  is  no  room  left  for  surprise  that 
he  put  a  high  estimate  upon  them  and  cher- 
ished his  Conference  relation  to  them. 

Conspicuous  among  them  was  Dr.  Jefferson 
Hamilton — scholar,  saint,  good  soldier  of  Jesus 
Christ.  He  was  a  leader  who  led  along  the  old 
paths  that  ascend  the  shining  way  of  holiness. 
Northern  born  and  bred,  he  was  naturalized  to 
the  South  at  the  first  contact.  His  glowing 
heart  recognized  and  responded  to  the  best 
elements  in  Southern  life  as  he  then  found  it. 
The  Alabamiaus  were  also  quick  to  detect  the 
quality  of  the  slender,  student-like,  intensely 
energetic  young  New  Englander  who  had  come 
among  them,  bringing  the  learning  of  the 
schools  and  the  zeal  of  an  apostle.    They  gave 


Jeffersox  Hamilton.  Yll 

him  their  hearts  and  the  highest  honors  they 
could  bestow.  The  results  of 'his  labors  can- 
not be  measured  this  side  the  final  reckoning. 
There  is  not  to-day  a  Methodist  society  in  Ala- 
bama, in  city,  town,  or  country,  that  is  not  the 
better  for  his  influence.  He  preached  holiness 
and  lived  it;  he  pointed  his  hearers  to  the  Ca- 
naan of  gospel  promise,  and  led  the  march  of 
the  advancing  host.  His  preaching  was  in  the 
demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  with  power. 
He  was  no  rose-water  theologian  or  prophesier 
of  smooth  things.  The  claims  and  penalties 
of  the  divine  law  were  presented  by  him  with 
such  clearness  of  Scripture  teaching,  logical 
power,  and  impassioned  earnestness,  that  the 
barriers  of  unbelief  and  the  opposition  of  the 
carnal  heart  were  broken  down,  and  the  hard- 
est sinners  knelt  before  God  broken,  contrite, 
and  ready  for  the  healing  touch  of  the  Great 
Physician.  And  none  knew  better  than  he 
how  to  lead  the  penitent  soul  to  the  loving 
Christ,  who  gives  beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of 
joy  for  mourning,  and  the  garment  of  praise 

for  the  spirit  of  heaviness.     In  his  greatest 
12 


178  Db.  Summers. 


pulpit  efforts  he  spoke  with  the  authority  of 
a  prophet  of  God,  voicing  the  thunders  and 
wielding  the  lightnings  of  the  divine  wrath 
against  sin;  or  with  radiant  face,  and  quivering 
lips,  and  swimming  eyes,  in  periods  rhythmic 
with  unconscious  music,  he  portrayed  the  beau- 
ty of  holiness  and  the  glories  of  the  heaven 
prepared  for  the  saints  so  enchantingly  that 
many,  many  of  his  hearers  took  a  fresh  start  in 
the  Christian  life,  never  to  abate  their  pace  until 
they  went  in  through  the  gates  into  the  city 
of  God.  While  yet  in  his  formative  state  as 
a  minister  of  the  gospel,  he  met  that  master- 
preacher  Dr.  Lovick  Pierce,  and  he  never  lost 
his  impress;  he  was  stronger  forever  from  the 
gracious  contact  and  inspiration  of  a  kindred 
soul.  He  was  no  imitator  of  Dr.  Pierce  or 
anybody  else;  he  was  too  great  and  had  too 
much  manliness  for  that.  The  unconscious 
imitator  is  usual!}'  weak;  the  conscious  imita- 
tor is  usually  both  weak  and  sinister.  He  was 
a  full-orbed  star  in  the  hand  of  Him  who  walk- 
eth  among  the  candlesticks,  not  a  satellite  re- 
vol vin g  round  any  larger  IxkIv.    He  ni i glit  have 


Neely  and  Dorm  ax.  179 

been  a  Bishop — all  acknowledged  that  he  was 
worthy — had  not  his  frail  physique  stood  in  the 
way.  But  such  men  need  no  official  pedestal — 
they  tower  above  common  men  in  the  grandeur 
of  true  greatness  by  the  exercise  of  the  gift  of 
God  that  is  in  them.  A  small  man  looks  still 
smaller  in  a  high  place.  A  large  man  may  not 
be  lifted  up  by  the  votes  of  men,  but  he  can- 
not be  concealed  nor  mistaken  for  a  pigmy. 

Among  these  Alabama  preachers  was  Philip 
P.  Neely — "Phil."  Neely,  his  brethren  affec- 
tionately and  familiarly  called  him.  He  had 
the  soul  of  a  poet,  and  a  voice  melodious  as  a 
flute.  He  charmed  the  ear  of  his  auditors  and 
stole  gently  into  their  hearts,  and  made  a  way 
for  his  Master.  In  the  far-distant  West  we 
have  seen  the  eyes  of  those  who  sat  under  his 
preaching  in  his  best  days  sparkle  as  they  re- 
called the  pulpit  eloquence  that  still  lingered 
delightfully  in  their  memories. 

Thomas  W.  Dorman  was  another  of  these 
Alabama  preachers  of  that  day  who  gave  tone 
to  the  Conference.  He  was  "a  man  among 
men" — a  preacher  whose  sermons  were  com- 


180  Dr.  Summers. 

pact  and  glowing  expositions  of  gospel  truth, 
while  his  administrative  talent  put  him  at  the 
front  with  the  men  who  performed  the  busi- 
ness and  bore  the  honors  of  the  body. 

And  there  was  Stephen  F.  Pilley — a  quiet, 
strong  man,  who  preached  sermons  that  had 
breadth  and  power,  the  marrow  and  fatness  of 
the  gospel,  a  man  of  prayer  and  a  worker  who 
never  hurried  and  never  was  behind  time. 

There  was  J.  L.  Gotten,  massive  in  thought, 
glowing  with  holy  fervor,  sweet-souled  and 
true-hearted — a  grand,  good  man. 

Among  them,  too,  was  C.  C.  Gillespie— the 
genial,  the  gifted  Gillespie,  whose  sermons 
were  models  of  homiletic  skill,  and  whose 
editorials  possessed  the  brightness  of  true 
paragraphic  crystal.  He  was  scorched  by  the 
fires  of  the  war  that  consumed  the  spiritual 
lives  of  many,  but  died  in  the  communion  of 
the  Episcopal  Church,  looking  to  the  Saviour 
he  had  found  when  a  youth  among  the  dear 
old  hills  of  his  native  Georgia. 

Of  men  still  living,  there  is  a  notable  com- 
pany— H.  N.  McTyeire,  Bishop,  an  intellect- 


Living  Alabamians.  181 

ual  Samson,  ecclesiastical  lawyer,  historian  of 
Methodism,  whose  mark  will  be  left  deep-cut 
when  he  is  gone ;  R.  K.  Hargrove,  the  full-grown, 
rounded  Bishop,  whose  work  is  equally  well 
done  in  the  pulpit,  the  school-room,  or  travel- 
ing and  leading  the  itinerant  forces  of  the 
Church  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains;  Allen 
S.  Andrews,  standing  like  a  central  pillar  up- 
holding the  structure  of  Alabama  Methodism, 
of  which  he  has  been  a  chief  builder;  Mark  S. 
Andrews,  embodied  Christian  manliness,  who 
can  pray  like  Elijah  and  love  like  St.  John ;  A. 
H.  Mitchell,  towering  above  common  men  both 
in  his  physical  and  mental  stature,  a  bold, 
sound  thinker,  college-bred  and  scholarly,  yet 
simple  and  guileless  as  a  child;  W.  H.  Ellison, 
a  man  of  God  equally  at  home  in  leading  a 
penitent  sinner  to  Christ  or  conducting  a  reci- 
tation in  school,  in  whose  track  the  flowers  of 
knowledge  and  goodness  have  bloomed;  Jo- 
seph B.  Cottrell,  a  man  of  genius  whose  brill- 
iant intellect  has  corruscated  over  many  sub- 
jects, and  whose  warm  and  generous  heart 
tempers  the  edge  of  a  wit  that  is  irrepressible; 


182  Dr.  Summers. 


W.  H.  Milburn,  whose  darkened  bodily  eyes 
have  seen  in  many  lands  so  much  that  is  hid- 
den from  the  eyes  of  the  vulgar,  and  whose 
classic  eloquence  has  ravished  multitudes 
with  its  charm  and  melted  them  with  its  pa- 
thos; W.  A.  McCarty,  an  able  and  original 
thinker;  O.  R.  Blue,  keen,  clear,  and  strong; 
R.  B.  Crawford,  incisive,  forcible,  and  ready; 
S.  P.  Richardson,  a  man  who  thinks  deeply 
on  lines  of  his  own,  whose  satire  on  occasion 
is  keen  as  a  razor;  and  many  younger  men 
whose  names  might  be  added  to  the  list.  It 
was  no  small  distinction  that  Summers  took 
and  held  a  conspicuous  position  among  these 
men.  More  than  once  he  was  placed  at  the 
head  of  their  delegation  to  the  General  Con- 
ference. It  is  not  strange  that  he  loved  the 
Alabama  Conference,  and  looked  lovingly  and 
longingly  to  it  as  the  evening  shadows  thick- 
ened around  him  in  his  last  days. 

As  we  shall  see,  later  on  in  life  he  went  back 
again  to  Alabama,  drawn  thither  by  affinities 
that  were  not  to  be  resisted. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GOES   TO    NASHVILLE. 

IN  1855  Dr.  Summers  removed  to  Nashville, 
the  Publishing  House  being  there  located. 
Here  he  maintained  his  indefatigable  literary 
activity.  He  continued  to  edit  the  Sunday  School 
Visitor,  which  he  had  started  and  edited  four 
years  in  Charleston.  An  estimate  of  him  as  an 
editor  will  be  made  elsewhere  in  this  volume; 
it  is  enough  to  say  here  that  his  Visitor  was 
brimming  with  good  humor  and  tenderness, 
and  had  jDlenty  of  hard  philological  and  theo- 
logical nuts  for  the  young  Methodists  to  crack. 
He  made  it  a  pure  and  able  publication,  often 
overshooting  the  minds  of  its  young  readers, 
upon  whom  he  poured  a  flood  of  entertaining 
and  useful  knowledge  too  copious  for  juvenile 
1  eceptivity.  If  it  was  not  popular  in  the  ordi- 
nary sense,  it  helped  to  elevate  the  religious 
taste  and  character  of  its  readers. 

He  edited  the  Southern  Methodist  Quarterly^ 
Beview  for  several  years  before  as  well  as  after 

(1881 


184  Db.  Summers. 


the  war.  It  was  full  of  bis  individuality — im- 
personal journalism  or  authorship  was  impos- 
sible to  bim,  and  be  never  attempted  it.  His 
first  aim  was  to  be  orthodox — and  in  this  be 
always  succeeded.  His  quick  eai-  detected  the 
slightest  ring  of  false  doctrine ;  and  if  a  writer 
even  approached  the  perilous  edge  of  error, 
bis  loud  but  fi'iendly  voice  sounded  the  alarm. 
His  next  aim  was  to  enlighten  the  ignorant. 
Of  information  not  accessible  to  ordinary  read- 
ers be  possessed  so  large  a  store  that  it  was 
lavished  upon  his  readers  with  a  liberality  that 
to  many  looked  like  pedantr}',  but  which  gave 
the  Review  under  his  editorial  management  bigli. 
rank  among  periodicals  of  its  class.  His  high- 
est aim  of  all  seemed  to  be  to  maintain  a  lofty 
and  fer\'ent  spirituality  in  its  pages.  The 
Christian  was  never  lost  in  the  critic;  the 
Christian  scholar  never  sunk  into  flashy  and 
frivolous  dilettanteisra.  The  great  religious 
heart  of  the  man  throbbed  in  every  depart- 
ment. 

He  was  the  general  Book  Editor  of  the 
Chm-ch  from  its  organization.    His  work  in 


A  Working  Prodigy.  185 

this  department  was  enormous — it  is  enough 
to  make  one's  head  dizzy  to  go  over  the  cata- 
logue of  the  books  he  revised  and  edited  for  the 
Church,  the  Introductions,  the  Notes,  and  the 
Indexes  he  prepared.  Among  these  works  were 
Wesley's  Sermons,  Watson's  Sermons,  AVat- 
son's  Theological  Institutes,  Watson's  Biblical 
and  Theological  Dictionary,  Life  of  Wesley 
and  Observations  on  Southey's  Life  of  Wes- 
ley, and  the  standard  Wesleyan  Catechisms. 
In  this  sort  of  work  he  was  painstaking,  con- 
scientious, and  remarkably  judicious.  His 
editions  of  a  standard  author  could  be  accepted 
as  the  genuine  text.  The  careless  compiler  or 
printer  who  blundered  in  a  date,  a  quotation, 
or  a  fact,  was  sure  to  be  found  out  and  set 
right.  In  following  the  trail  of  an  historical 
blunder  his  nose  was  keen  and  his  wind  inex- 
haustible. 

After  coming  to  Nashville  he  developed  rap- 
idly as  an  author.  How  he  found  time  to  write 
so  much  and  so  well  is  a  mystery  to  which  al- 
lusion has  already  been  made.  He  wrote  Com- 
mentaries on  the  Gospels,  the  Acts,  and  the 


186  Dr.  Summers. 


Bitual  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
South — six  volumes.  He  wrote  treatises  on 
Holiness,  on  Baptism,  on  The  Catechetical  Of- 
fice of  the  Church,  Seasons,  Months,  and  Days, 
Talks  Pleasant  and  Profitable,  Eefutation  of 
the  Theological  Works  of  Thomas  Paine,  The 
Golden  Censer  (a  work  on  Prayer,  with  a  col- 
lection of  Forms  of  Prayer  for  all  occasions)—* 
and  innumerable  pamphlets,  tracts,  sermons, 
etc.  When  it  is  remembered  that  in  addition 
to  his  work  as  editor  and  author  he  was,  during 
a  large  part  of  the  time.  Professor  of  System- 
atic Theology  in  Vanderbilt  University  and 
Dean  of  the  Theological  Faculty,  and  ex  officio 
pastor  of  that  institution,  the  amount  of  these 
literary  labors  will  strike  the  initiated  reader 
with  astonishment. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SUMMERS  AS  A  STUDENT  AND  SCHOLAR. 

DK.  SUMMEES  adopted  literally  the  rule 
for  Methodist  preachers  never  to  be  tri- 
flingly  employed.  He  gathered  up  all  the 
odds  and  ends  of  time.  He  lost  not  a  moment. 
This  was  one  of  the  secrets  of  his  vast  acqui- 
sitions. He  possessed  the  power  of  concen- 
,  trating  his  attention  at  short  notice  upon  any 
point.  In  this  way  he  filled  the  gaps  between 
his  regular  tasks,  and  was  constantly  giving 
surprises  to  his  friends,  who  could  not  under- 
stand how  he  found  time  to  do  so  much  work. 
If  a  resolution  was  to  be  written  in  a  hurry, 
if  a  programme  was  to  be  arranged  quickly, 
if  any  sort  of  paper  was  to  be  gotten  up  to 
meet  an  emergency,  he  was  usually  called  up- 
on, and  was  always  ready.  His  readiness  was 
extraordinary. 

Dr.  Summers  had  the  patience  as  well  as  the 
industry  of  the  real  student.  The  trail  of  a 
word  or  a  fact  would  be  followed  by  him  through 

(187)' 


188  Db.  Summers. 


nil  sorts  of  windings  until  he  got  hold  of  it. 
His  mind  seemed  not  to  be  capable  of  thinking 
of  giving  up  the  search  before  finding  what 
was  wanted.  A  bad  manuscript  or  an  obscure 
point  in  scholarship  had  a  positive  charm  for 
him.  He  wrestled  with  such  difficulties  with 
the  enthusiasm  of  a  soldier  in  battle,  and  ex- 
ulted in  success  with  demonstrative  joy.  When 
once  his  mind  had  taken  up  any  question,  wheth- 
er it  was  a  vital  dogma  of  religion  or  the  change 
of  a  single  word  or  punctuation-mark  in  a  hymn, 
he  put  his  whole  power  into  it  for  the  time. 

Accuracy  of  knowledge  naturally  resulted 
from  this  mental  tone  and  these  methods  of 
study.  There  was  with  him  no  guessing  at 
facts  or  leaping  at  conclusions.  Many  things 
were  intrinsically  of  slight  significance,  but  the 
truth  was  not  to  be  trifled  with  in  any  case  or 
under  any  circumstances.  He  blazed  with  virt- 
uous indignation  alike  at  the  tampering  with 
grave  theological  dogmas,  important  historical 
facts,  or  a  quotation  from  a  polemic  or  hym- 
nologist.  His  wrath  was  amusingly  excessive 
at  the  alterations  made  by  compilers  and  crit- 


His  Accuracy.  189 

ics  in  many  of  the  standard  hymns  in  use  by 
the  Churches,  and  he  took  special  satisfactidn 
in  the  good  work  he  had  done  in  restoring  the 
original  text  in  the  hymns  inserted  in  the 
hymn-book  edited  by  him  for  his  own  Church. 
In  scriptural  quotations  he  was  most  exact,  and 
was  not  slow  to  set  right  a  blunderer  in  this 
line.  He  had  little  patience  with  the  careless- 
ness that  garbles  the  word  of  God.  "If  you 
mean  to  give  a  literal  quotation,  the  words  are 
these,"  he  would  say  when  he  heard  a  misquo- 
tation; and  then  he  would  give  the  exact  lan- 
guage of  the  sacred  text.  Or,  if  he  happened 
to  be  in  a  pugnacious  mood,  he  would  inter- 
rupt the  speaker  who  tripped  by  crying  out, 
"There  is  no  such  passage  in  the  Bible!" 
"When  a  mistake  of  this  sort  was  made  in  the 
pulpit,  he  winced  as  if  pierced  by  a  thorn.  His 
criticisms  were  often  playful  and  inoffensive, 
but  sometimes  he  was  not  understood  by  per- 
sons who  did  not  know  him  well. 

Summers  met  his  match  one  day  during  a 
session  of  the  Alabama  Conference.  The  Rev. 
S.  P.  Richardson,  a  man  of  peculiar  genius  and 


190  Dr.  Summers. 


strong  individuality,  in  the  course  of  some  re- 
marks before  the  body,  used  the  expression, 
"Sence  Conference."  Summers  sprung  to  his 
feet  and  exclaimed  in  his  loud  voice,  "  I  always 
thought  8-i-n-c-e  spelled  since!"  There  was  a 
burst  of  laughter  at  the  expense  of  Richard- 
son, who  remained  standing.  But  he  was  equal 
to  the  emergency.  He  stood  imperturbable  for 
a  few  moments  until  the  silence  was  complete, 
and  then,  without  the  change  of  a  muscle,  said 
in  quiet,  measured  tones:  "I  don't  object  to 
criticism,  and  I  am  not  afraid  of  critics.  If 
my  facts,  my  logic,  or  even  my  syntax  should 
be  criticised,  I  can  stand  it;  but,"  he  added, 
looking  straight  at  Summers,  ^^ihe  Lord  deliver 
me  from  one  of  these  spelling-book  fellows  !  " 

The  Conference  roared  —  the  laugh  was 
turned.  Summers  half  rose  to  his  feet,  but 
for  once  had  nothing  to  say,  and  sat  down 
laughing  with  the  rest.  It  was  a  good-natured 
encounter  on  both  sides. 

That  quality  of  mind  by  which  he  was  led  to 
throw  himself  wholly  into  any  subject  that 
claimed  his  thought  furnishes  part  of  the  ex- 


His  Readiness.  191 

planation  of  his  marvelous  memory.  The  de- 
gree of  interest  in  whatever  touches  the  mind 
measures  the  permanency  as  well  as  the  vi\dd- 
ness  of  the  impression.  Intensity  was  his  nor- 
mal state.  His  mental  glow  never  cooled  or 
fell  below  a  red  heat.  His  mind  was  therefore 
always  receptive  and  retentive.  He  had  the 
rare  gift  of  perennial  and  universal  intellectual 
enthusiasm.  The  nickels  as  well  as  the  heavy 
gold-pieces  were  closely  guarded  and  carefully 
arranged  in  the  treasure-house  of  his  memory, 
and  he  could  bring  forth  either  the  one  or  the 
other  for  use  with  equal  facility.  No  man  that 
I  have  known  equaled  Dr.  Summers  in  the 
readiness  ^ith  which  he  could  use  all  the  vast 
fund  of  varied  knowledge  he  possessed.  "  Some 
men  are  very  rich;  they  have  millions  of  dol- 
lars in  bank,  but  carry  none  in  their  pockets. 
They  can  draw  you  a  check  that  v,dll  be  paid 
on  presentation,  but  seldom  have  a  dollar  on 
hand  for  immediate  use.  So  there  are  men 
who,  if  time  were  given  them  with  access  to 
their  books,  could  give  you  the  deepest  thought 
and  fullest  information  concerning  any  ques- 


192  Dr.  Summers. 


tion,  but  are  incapable  of  off-hand  use  of  their 
intellectual  riches."  (Dr.  T.  J.  Dodd.)  Dr. 
Summers  might  not  have  more  in  bank  than 
other  men,  but  he  carried  more  with  him  ready 
for  circulation.  He  had  transferred  his  ency- 
clopedias from  his  book-shelves  to  his  head, 
and  took  them  along  with  him  wherever  he 
went. 

A  defect  in  his  eye-sight  was  attended  with 
some  inevitable  annoyance  and  disability,  and 
was  to  him  in  some  sense  a  thorn  in  the  flesh. 
But  there  was  a  compensation  in  the  fact  that 
partial  blindness  in  his  case,  as  in  most  others, 
induced  the  habit  of  careful  verification  of  all 
authorities.  The  hurried  glance  of  the  naked 
eye  may  deceive  where  the  patient  use  of  the 
microscope  would  reveal  the  truth  as  it  is. 
This  law  of  compensation  throws  its  softening 
light  upon  every  fact  and  every  condition  of 
human  life — except  where  willful  and  persist- 
ent sin  against  God  and  his  laws  turns  the 
light  of  life  itself  into  a  consuming  fire. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

H  I  S    CATHOLICITY. 

DE.  SUMMERS  furnished  a  striking  il- 
lustration of  the  truth  that  a  man  may 
be  at  the  same  time  positively  and  enthusias- 
tically denominational,  and  have  a  large  and 
sweet  catholicity.  Within  the  lines  of  evan- 
gelical orthodoxy  he  had  a  brotherly  heart  and 
the  hand  of  fellowship  for  all  sorts  of  Chris- 
tians. Outside  of  that  limit  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  he  was  rigid  enough.  For  the  views 
of  any  man  who  opposed  what  he  held  to  be 
fundamental  in  Christian  doctrine  he  had  little 
toleration.  An  error  of  this  sort  was  usually 
denounced  by  him  unsparingly,  or  dismissed 
with  contemptuous  satire.  He  had  his  moods 
when  his  whole  feeling  toward  the  errors  that 
lead  the  world  away  from  truth  and  God  was 
that  of  yearning  pity,  and  always  the  errorist 
himself  would  have  found  in  him  by  personal 
contact  the  truest  kindness  and  most  generous 
sympathy.  While  he  spared  no  error,  he  will- 
l.*^  (193) 


194  Dii.  Summers. 


ingly  wounded  no  human  heart.  If  he  has  left 
any  wounds  that  yet  rankle,  or  any  sears  on 
any  sjnrit  resulting  from  any  line  that  he  wrote 
or  any  word  that  he  spoke,  it  was  because  of 
his  peculiar  manner  rather  than  from  any  in- 
tention to  hurt.  It  was  not  in  his  heart  to  hurt 
a  worm,  much  less  a  sensitive  human  soul. 
When  he  told  a  brilliant  and  daring  preacher 
who  took  very  strong  ground  on  what  he  be- 
lieved to  be  the  wrong  side  of  a  vexed  question 
of  theology,  "  If  that  is  your  opinion  your  place 
is  outside  of  the  Methodist  Church ! "  he  thun- 
dered forth  the  words  with  an  energy  peculiar- 
ly his  own.  But  he  had  no  thought  of  giving 
offense.  He  admired  and  loved  the  brother 
thus  si3oken  to,  and  had  he  needed  an  advocate 
or  defender  in  any  sort  of  trouble,  Summers 
would  have  been  one  of  the  first  to  extend  sym- 
pathy and  help.  Ho  seemed  to  be  really  sav- 
age at  times  in  his  feeling  toward  a  heresy,  but 
he  would  not  have  hurt  a  hair  of  the  heads  of 
all  the  heretics  that  ever  lived.  As  a  watch- 
dog set  to  guard  the  doctrine  of  his  Church, 
his  bark  was  loud,  but  he  had  no  disposition 


His  Catholicity.  195 

to  bite  and  tear  liis  £ellow-men,  however  obsti- 
nate and  perverse  tliey  might  seem  to  be  in 
their  adhesion  to  error. 

As  a  polemic,  he  dealt  sturdy  blows  against 
the  views  that  antagonized  the  strict  Armin- 
ianism  to  which  he  held  v/ith  such  undoubting 
belief  and  such  unflinching  tenacity.  In  his 
personal  intercourse  with  the  ministers  and 
members  of  other  Churches  he  was  the  embod- 
iment of  genial  and  unselfish  liberality.  He 
was  ultra  anti-Calvinistic,  and  yet  the  Calvin- 
istic  brother  who  stood  uj)  to  him  squarely  and 
aggressively  in  an  argument  was  the  one  he 
loved.  He  was  an  anti-immersionist,  and  yet 
he  loved  the  Baptists,  felt  at  home  in  their 
pulpits,  and  sincerely  rejoiced  in  their  pros 
perity.  The  Presbyterians  of  Nashville  re- 
garded him  wii  h  special  affection,  and  his  voice 
was  fami.iar  in  all  their  congregations.  In  his 
diary  his  heart  seems  to  glow  at  every  mention 
of  them.  And  th^y  were  no  less  partial  to  him. 
They  relished  his  rough,  good-natured  jokes 
concerning  their  belief  in  private  and  sat  under 
his  ministry  with  dolight  in  the  sanctuary.    He 


196  Dr.  Summers. 


often  quoted  with  evident  emotion  the  sacer- 
dotal prayer  of  our  Lord,  and  thrilled  with  joy 
in  the  prospect  of  its  fulfillment  in  the  glad 
time  coming  when  all  his  people  should  be  one 
even  as  He  and  his  Father  are  one.  He  was 
indeed  a  most  intensely  denominational  Meth- 
odist and  yet  a  most  catholic- spirited  Christian. 
The  paradox  involved  in  this  statement  will  be 
understood  by  like-minded  readers.  They  will 
see  that  the  nobility  of  Christian  character  that 
makes  a  man  true  to  his  section  of  the  Church 
makes  him  true  to  it  as  a  whole.  The  best 
neighbor  is  the  man  who  is  kindest  and  most 
loving  in  his  own  household. 

The  Bev.  J.  H.  McNeilly,  pastor  of  the 
Moore  Memorial  Presbyterian  Church,  Nash- 
ville, with  whom  he  was  affectionately  familiar, 
gives  the  following  picture  of  Dr.  Summers. 
These  kind  and  discriminating  words  happily 
illustrate  his  character,  and  indicate  the  esteem 
in  which  he  was  held  by  the  Christian  i^ublic 
outside  of  his  own  Communion.  Such  a  trib- 
ute is  as  honorable  to  the  living  writer  as  to 
bis  ascended  brother: 


Br.  McNeilly's  Etching.  197 

THE  EEV.  J.  H.  McNEILLY'S  ETCHING  OF  DR. 
SUMMERS. 

"In  essentials,  unity;  in  non-essentiHlsJ,  liberty;  in  all,  charity.' 
"  I  believe  in  .  .  .  the  communion  of  saints." 

Dr.  Summers  was  a  man  of  a  catholic  spirit.  In  his 
spiritual  life  and  work  he  tried  to  realize  the  communion 
of  saints.  For  him  the  saints  were  not  confined  to  his  own 
denomination.  His  sympathies  went  out  to  the  people  of 
God  of  every  name  and  order. 

It  was  my  privilege  for  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  life  to 
be  closely  and  intimately  associated  with  him,  and  to  discuss 
with  him  in  the  frankness  of  warm  personal  friendship  a 
great  many  questions  of  doctrine  apd  life.  Though  I  am 
by  tradition,  by  training,  and  by  conviction  a  Presbyterian, 
yet  our  diflferent  ecclesiastical  connection  in  no  way  inter- 
fered with  our  Christian  fellowship. 

His  doctrinal  beliefs  were  clear,  positive,  decided;  and 
he  never  concealed  them.  He  was  ready  at  all  proper  times 
to  expound  and  defend  his  doctrinal  system.  After  careful 
study  and  from  sincere  conviction,  he  was  a  Methodist.  He 
was  devotedly  attached  to  his  Church,  and  keenly  alive  to 
all  the  grandeur  of  its  history.  He  was  intensely  interest- 
ed in  every  thing  that  might  affect  its  honor  or  its  useful- 
ness. He  was  thankful  that  God  had  given  him  the  privi- 
lege of  working  for  the  Master  in  the  Methodist  Church; 
yet  his  relations  to  other  Churches  of  Christ  were  peculiar- 
ly intimate.  His  love  to  the  brethren  Avas  not,  and  could 
not  be,  bounded  by  denominational  lines.     He  claimed  as 


198  Dr.  Summers. 


brethren  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  in  sincerity.  He 
cheerfully  acknowledged  as  tnie  Churches  of  Christ  all  those 
bodies  who  hold  the  essentials  of  faith.  If  they  are  united 
lo  the  Head  then  are  they  members  of  the  body.  This  was 
not  a  bare  acknowledgment;  it  was  a  joyous,  thankful  wel- 
come of  them  as  joint  heirs  and  fellow-workers  in  the  king- 
dom of  God.  He  was  deeply  interested  in  their  work,  and 
heartily  rejoiced  in  their  prosperity.  However  much  he 
might  differ  from  them  in  minor  points,  he  felt  that  the 
points  of  agreement  were  more  numerous  and  important. 
In  his  judgments  of  men  and  their  opinions  he  laid  chief 
stress  on  the  question  whether  they  were  sincere  followers 
of  Christ.  If  they  were,  that  fact  covered  in  his  eyes  a 
multitude  of  doctrinal  errors — his  heart  went  out  to  them. 
The  great  central  fact  of  his  religious  experience  was 
personal  love  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  he  gave  j)ersonal  love 
to  all  who  love  the  Saviour.  It  was  this  personal  feeling 
that  marketl  his  relations  with  other  Churches.  His  was 
not  a  mere  vague  general  interest  in  their  work  and  res|)ect 
for  tiieir  members,  but  each  denomination  seemed  to  be 
pnibodie<l  in  some  person  or  persons  who  manifested  its 
epirit.  He  knew  the  history  of  these  persons,  if  dead;  he 
knew  the  persons  themselves,  if  living.  He  had  a  gracefiil 
way  of  seeing  the  liest  qualities  of  these  jjersons,  and  giving 
credit  to  the  denomination.  Thus,  I  su]tpose  he  never 
thought  of  tlie  Lutheran  Church  but  that  it  was  emlKnlied 
to  him  in  the  person  of  his  dear  friend  Dr.  Bachman,  of 
Charleston.    He  knew  the  worthies  of  all  the  Churches,  and 


Christian  Fellowship.  199 

deliglited  to  do  them  honor.  While  he  naturally  and  prop- 
erly gave  John  Wesley  a  chief  place  among  men,  he  had 
many  a  kind  word  to  say  of  John  Calvin ;  and  while  he  was 
quick  to  wage  war  against  much  of  the  theology  of  the 
stern  old  reformer,  yet  he  was  apt  to  quote  him  on  the 
fundamentals  of  tlie  faith. 

Dr.  Summers  found  great  pleasure  in  religious  conversa- 
tion with  his  brethren.  Many  a  time,  sitting  by  his  table 
in  his  office,  we  would  drift  from  arguments  into  warm  and 
loving  talk  on  the  great  and  precious  truths  common  to  us 
both ;  and  his  eyes  would  kindle,  his  face  would  flush,  and 
all  the  brusqueness  of  his  manner  would  soften  down,  until 
I  would  realize  that  he  was  an  older  brother  talking  to  me 
out  of  a  larger  experience  about  family  affairs. 

For  a  good  while  he  lived  in  the  bounds  of  my  congre- 
gation, often  preacliing  ibr  me,  and  I  often  sought  his  coun- 
sel. Once  when  he  was  very  ill,  two  or  three  of  my  breth- 
ren of  the  Presbytery  of  Nashville  were  visiting  me.  We 
all  went  together  to  see  him.  As  we  entered  the  room  and 
he  recognized  us,  he  looked  up  with  a  smile,  saying:  "Tliis 
is  glorious;  a  whole  Presbytery  coming  to  comfort  a  poor, 
sick  Methodist  sinner!"  Once  at  a  Christmas-tree  in  my 
church,  the  Sunday-school  put  on  the  tree  a  present  for  him. 
In  response,  he  began  by  saying  in  a  humorous  way  that 
"Presbyterians  were  almost  as  good  as  Methodists  anyhow, 
and  if  we  did  not  quit  mixing  so  much  it  would  be  hard  to 
tell  them  apart." 

It  was  not  with  me  only,  but  with  brethren  of  all  denom- 


200  Dr.  Summers. 


i  nations  he  was  the  same  genial,  fresh,  warm-hearted  broth- 
er. Wherever  Dr.  Summers  went,  }je  was  on  excellent 
terras  with  the  pastors  of  other  Churches,  and  made  many 
warm  friends  among  their  members.  To  his  honor  be  it 
said,  he  never  used  this  influence  unworthily;  but  on  the 
other  hand  he  used  it  to  build  up  and  strengthen  the  Church- 
es with  which  these  friends  were  connected. 

Forty  years  ago,  Dr.  Summers  was  in  the  Texas  Repub- 
lic, in  charge  of  the  churches  in  Houston  and  Galveston. 
Three  or  four  years  ago,  when  I  lived  in  Houston,  I  found 
his  memory  lovingly  cherished  by  the  older  people  of  all 
the  Churches.  One  of  the  elders  of  my  Church  had  a  son 
named  for  him. 

When  he  left  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  where  some 
of  his  happiest  years  were  spent,  it  was  not  Metho<lists 
alone  that  son-owed  over  his  departure. 

In  Nashville,  for  many  years  he  was  the  trusted  friend 
and  adviser  of  ministers  of  all  denominations.  All  felt 
sure  in  coming  to  him  of  a  sympathizing  heart,  and  of  wise 
counsel. 

When  death  came  into  the  family  circles  of  whatever 
Church,  lie  was  most  frequently  called  to  assist  the  pastor 
in  burying  the  dead  and  ministering  comfort  to  the  be- 
reaved. 

When  any  minister  wished  a  supply  for  his  pulpit,  none 
more  ready  than  he  to  do  the  work,  and  none  more  accept- 
able to  the  congregations  of  the  city. 

It  was  his  ciiBtora  when  not  engaged  in  preaching  to  at- 


Practical  Irenics.  201 

tend  the  services  of  the  various  Churches,  especially  at  their 
communion  seasons.  He  used  to  say  tliat  then  each  denom- 
ination presented  its  picture  of  the  common  Saviour,  taken 
from  its  own  point  of  view,  and  it  did  him  good  to  see  how 
the  Lord  appeared  to  liis  brethren.  He  said  it  gave  him  a 
fuller  view  of  Christ. 

I  used  after  any  missionary  tour  to  visit  him  and  tell 
him  of  the  work.  It  gave  him  hearty  pleasure  to  hear  of 
revivals  in  any  of  our  cliurches,  and  of  our  growth  or  suc- 
cessful work. 

I  remember  coming  in  upon  him  as  he  finished  reading 
an  unkind  criticism  upon  himself.  He  had  with  great  pains 
gathered  and  published  some  statistics  of  a  sister  denomina- 
tion. A  paper  of  that  denomination  charged  that  the  sta- 
tistics gave  too  low  a  view  of  their  numbers,  and  that  it  was 
done  through  envy.  With  indignant  earnestness  he  said: 
"I  shall  gladly  make  the  correction;  would  God  they  were 
a  thousand  times  as  strong  as  they  are!"  It  afterward 
turned  out  that  his  figures  were  right. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  he  was  entirely  incapable  of  envy 
or  jealousy,  either  personal  or  ecclesia-stical.  He  always 
spoke  well  of  his  brethren,  and  wished  them  to  think  well 
of  each  other. 

One  matter  we  often  discussed.  In  nearly  every  little 
village  or  neighborhood  tliere  are  tliree  or  four  evangelical 
Churches,  while  tlie  wants  of  the  community  would  be 
abundantly  supplied  by  cne.  Thus,  instead  of  having  a 
minister  properly  supported,  and  a  Church  active  and  effi- 


202  Dr.  Summers. 


cient  in  every  ncighborliotxl,  many  places  are  entirely  des- 
titute, and  two  or  three  ministers  are  hampered  by  meager 
support  and  discouraged  by  small  congregations,  and  the 
community  is  divided  into  several  weak,  inefficient,  and  too 
often  rival  societies.  Dr.  Summers  i)onderetI  long  and  ear- 
nestly on  this  subject,  and  was  preparing  to  write  on  it.  He 
wished  to  see  some  metliod  of  cooperation  among  evangel- 
ical Churches  by  which,  when  any  Church  should  be  faith- 
fully supplying  any  place  with  the  gospel,  and  should  be 
sufficien*.  for  that  community,  other  Churches  should  allow 
it  to  occupy  that  field.  He  felt  that  there  are  too  many 
destitute  places  entirely  unsupplietl  for  the  Church  of  Christ 
to  waste  men  and  means  on  fields  already  fully  occupie<l. 
He  indulgetl  no  Utopian  dreams  of  a  great  organizjition  in 
which  all  denominations  should  be  merged ;  br.t  he  l)elieved 
that  the  growing  spirit  of  love  would  enable  them  to  find 
some  practicable  mode  of  cooperation.  He  did  not  under- 
estimate doctrines,  but  he  exalted  love  to  the  chief  place  in 
the  life. 

To  show  how  Dr.  Summers  was  ai)preciated  by  his  breth- 
ren I  cannot  do  better  than  close  this  by  a  copy  of  the  res- 
olutions adopted  at  his  death  by  the  association  of  officers 
of  the  Presbyterian  Churches  of  Nashville: 

"  Whereas  the  Rev.  Thomas  O.  Summers,  D.D.,  of  the 
MotluKlist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  has  l>een  ctilletl  to  en- 
ter into  his  heavenly  rest;  and  whereas  Dr.  Summers,  dur- 
ing his  long  residence  in  this  city,  very  often  and  very  ac- 
ceptably filled  our  various  Presbj*terian  pulpits,  and  did,  by 


A  Life-like  Picture.  203 

his  genial  manners,  catliolic  spirit,  devoted  piety,  and  faith- 
ful preaching,  endear  liimself  to  our  people;  therefore, 

"  1.  Resolved,  That  in  the  death  of  Dr.  Summers  the  whole 
evangelical  Church  in  this  city  is  called  to  mourn  tlie  loss 
of  a  good  man,  of  an  able  minister  of  Christ,  of  a  wise  and 
ready  helper  in  eveiy  good  work. 

"  2.  That  we  record  our  high  appreciation  of  his  broth- 
erly kindness  in  so  frequently  ministering  to  our  people  the 
everlasting  gospel  of  Christ,  and  that  we  ever  remember 
him  as  a  brother  beloved  in  the  Lord. 

"3.  That  we  tender  to  his  bereaved  family  our  hearty 
sympathy  in  this  affliction,  and  commend  tliem  to  tJie  God 
of  all  comfort  who  hath  taken  our  brother  to  himself." 

This  picture,  though  warm  with  the  glow  of 
Christian  love,  is  life-like  and  true.  The  heav- 
en where  such  men  meet  will  be  a  blessed  place 
in  which  to  live  forever. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DR.  SUMMERS  AS  AN  EDITOR 

AS  an  editor  Dr.  Summers  exhibited  the 
excellences  and  deficiencies  of  his  tem- 
perament. Impersonal  journalism  was  impos- 
sible to  him.  He  lacked  that  sort  of  versatility 
that  enables  some  persons  to  yield  themselves 
for  the  time  being  to  almost  any  current  of 
thought  and  flow  on  with  it.  His  one  great 
ruling  passion  was  to  learn  something  and  then 
to  tell  it.  If  you  wished  to  make  him  happy, 
ask  him  a  hard  question.  If  he  did  not  have 
an  answer  at  hand,  he  knew  where  to  find  it. 
It  mattered  not  whether  the  question  was  in- 
trinsically important  or  not,  his  interest  was 
equally  intense,  and  his  delight  in  furnishing 
the  answer  equally  great.  "Whatever  might  be 
omitted  in  the  weekly  issue  of  the  Christian 
Advocate^  his  "Notes  and  Queries"  were  sure 
to  be  found.  A  question  on  th^  most  profound 
problem  in  speculative  theology,  the  most  aw- 
ful of  the  mysteries  of  faith,  or  the  date  of 
(204) 


Answebing  Questions.  205 

some  minor  historical  event,  would  be  seized 
upon  with  impartial  ardor  and  answered.  The 
one  great  point  with  him  was  to  be  accurate. 
He  magnified  his  editorial  office  as  a  reviser 
and  corrector.  What  was  drudgery  to  other 
men  was  delight  to  him.  The  discovery  of 
slips  in  syntax,  in  orthography,  in  facts  and 
dates  in  any  writing,  was  to  him  like  finding 
plums  in  a  pudding;  it  rewarded  his  labor  and 
made  him  feel  that  he  was  doing  good.  At 
times  he  had  more  of  this  than  even  he  could 
enjoy.  In  one  of  his  letters  to  Bishop  Wight- 
man  he  said  he  was  busy  now  preparing  the 
manuscripts  of  a  certain  famous  preacher  for 
the  press,  "and  I  am  astonished  to  see  how  a 
man  of  his  renown  and  reputed  elegance  of 
diction  could  be  so  slipshod  and  careless.  It 
is  terrible  work  to  fall  on  me  just  now!"  It 
must  have  been  a  tangled  web  of  obscurity  in- 
deed that  extorted  such  an  exclamation  from 
him.  His  ability  and  readiness  to  answer  all 
sorts  of  inquiries  were  a  snare  to  him  and  to  his 
readers.  There  are  many  people  in  the  world 
who  have  a  penchant   for  asking   questions. 


206  Dr.  Summers. 


They  are  born  with  minds  in  the  attitude  of  an 
interrogation-point  toward  every  thing  in  heav- 
en above,  in  tlie  earth  beneath,  and  everj-where 
else  in  the  univeree,  so  far  as  they  get  any 
glimpse  of  its  contents.  They  ask  questions 
just  for  the  sake  of  indulging  tliis  inborn  pro- 
pensity. Dr.  Summers's  patience  and  fertility 
of  resource  were  equal  to  the  curiosity  and  in- 
quisitiveness  of  a  great  company  of  question- 
ers. And'so  the  "Notes  and  Queries"  flowed 
on  as  from  a  perennial  spring,  to  the  delight  of 
many;  but  others  thought  that  it  made  the  pa- 
per too  much  like  a  one-stringed  instrument, 
lacking  variety  of  tone.  But  when  he  was  gone, 
even  the  eomplainers  felt  the  loss,  and  perhaps 
had  compunctions  of  conscience  for  having 
complained.  A  few  weeks  after  his  death  and 
burial,  the  writer  of  these  chapters  sought  a 
brother  editor's  office  in  the  Publishing  House 
to  get  help  in  the  solution  of  some  question 
demanding  his  attention.  After  unavailing 
search  for  what  was  wanted,  there  was  a  pause, 
and  one  of  them  looking  toward  Dr.  Summers's 
office  hard  by,  which  was  without  an  occupant 


"  If  He  Were  Here  ! ' '  207 

and  with  closed  doors,  said,  "  If  the  old  Doctor 
were  only  here! "  And  as  they  thought  of  the 
familiar  presence  and  kindly  voice  they  would 
see  and  hear  no  more,  they  sat  in  silence  with 
moistened  eyes.  This  little  episode  is  indica- 
tive of  what  the  whole  Church  felt  when  he 
died — it  was  the  hushing  of  a  voice  that  was 
familiar  in  its  homes,  and  which  was  that  of  a 
father.  It  was  realized  that  a  burning  and 
shining  light  that  freely  shed  its  beams  for  all 
had  gone  out.  They  who  thought  they  had 
had  too  many  "  Notes  and  Queries  "  sorrowed 
that  the  busy  brain  was  still  and  the  ready  pen 
laid  aside  forever. 

Perhaps  the  feature  of  his  editorial  work 
that  should  have  been  first  mentioned  was  his 
sleepless  vigilance  in  guarding  and  his  unfal- 
tering boldness  in  defending  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity  as  held  by  his  Church.  Was  he 
not  called  to  the  editorial  kingdom  for  just 
such  a  time  as  that  which  followed  the  great 
upheaval  of  the  war  between  the  States?  It 
was  a  time  of  great  changes,  of  unrest,  of  in- 
novation  and  experimenting  in  Church   and 


208  Dr.  Summers. 

State.  Even  our  conservative,  steady-going 
Southern  Methodists  caught  the  prevalent  in- 
fection to  some  extent.  •  At  tlie  General  Con- 
ference, held  in  New  Orleans  in  1866,  this 
tendency  culminated.  If  all  the  changes  then 
proposed  in  the  polity  of  the  Church  had  been 
adopted,  scarcely  a  shred  of  the  old  garment 
would  have  b§en  left.  As  it  was,  new  depart- 
ures were  taken  with  regard  to  several  impor- 
tant questions,  and  lines  of  policy  adopted  that 
will  powerfully  affect  the  Church  for  all  future 
time.  This  tide  of  change,  threatening  revo- 
lution, was  surging  against  the  sides  of  the  old 
ship  when  Dr.  Summers  was  called  to  edit  the 
connectional  organ  of  the  Church.  It  was  a 
fortunate  event.  His  very  failings  leaned  to 
the  side  of  safety  at  such  a  time.  The  doc- 
trines that  he  had  embraced  with  all  the  ar- 
dor of  thorough  conviction  and  enthusiastic 
joy,  and  the  polity  and  methods  that  he  had 
found  so  eflScacious  in  his  own  early  experi- 
ence, were  dearer  to  him  than  life.  And  so 
he  stood,  like  a  sea-wall,  to  resist  the  advanc- 
ing tide  of  radicalism  in  thought  and  in  legis- 


A  Vigilant  Sentinel.  209 

lation.  He  was  eagle-eyed  to  discern  the  least 
tinge  of  error  according  to  the  existing  stand- 
ards, and  swift  to  expunge  or  refute  it.  That 
he  may  have  been  too  sensitive,  and  gone  too 
far  at  times  in  the  direction  of  strict  construc- 
tion and  rigid  adherence  to  orthodoxy,  might 
be  admitted  by  his  warmest  friends;  while 
those  who  differed  most  widely  from  his  views 
respected  his  candor,  and  could  reciprocate  the 
Christian  courtesy  which  never  was  absent  from 
him  even  in  the  heat  of  discussion.  His  ex- 
treme sensitiveness  to  the  appearance  of  error 
was  illustrated  by  his  antipathy  to  the  popular 
hymn,  "Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee."  With  a 
toss  and  shake  of  the  head  he  ejaculated,  "Away 
with  it!  it  has  no  Christ  in  it."  The  Unitarian 
authorship  of  the  hymn  was  the  fact  that  in- 
spired this  intolerance.  A  poet  who  denied 
the  divinity  of  his  Saviour  could  not  make 
hymns  for  this  undoubting,  demonstrative  Trin- 
itarian. An  angel's  harp  attuned  to  any  lower 
key  could  not  charm  his  orthodox  ear. 

Thus  it  happened  that  if  the  literature  of 

Southern  Methodism  during  the  period  of  his 
11 


210  Dr.  SuMMEiiS. 


book  and  newspaper  editorship  lacked  some- 
what in  freshness  and  progi'essiveness,  it  had 
its  compensating  side  in  that  it  Avas  sound  and 
solid.  Dr.  Summers  knew  the  Articles  of  Re- 
ligion and  Wesley  and  Watson  and  Fletcher  by 
heart.  He  could  and  did  instantly  apply  the 
touch-stone  to  any  thing  doubtful  that  fell  un- 
der his  editorial  eye.  The  ring  of  base  metal 
was  detected  at  once.  In  the  United  States 
mint  at  San  Francisco  there  was  said  to  be  a 
Chinaman  who  could  by  a  simple  touch  instan- 
taneously recognize  any  coin  defective  in  weight 
or  unduly  alloyed.  There  are  persons  who 
seem  to  be  endowed  Avitli  a  special  gift  of  this 
kind — a  peculiar  instinct.  It  was  something 
like  this  that  enabled  this  guardian  of  Chris- 
tian doctrine  to  catch  the  flavor  of  falseness 
no  matter  how  much  it  might  be  disguised  by 
ingenious  sophistries  or  by  obscurity  of  style. 
If  in  the  pulpit  he  sat  behind  a  preacher  who 
made  the  least  trip  in  doctrinal  statement  or 
exegetics,  an  involuntary  elevation  of  the  eye- 
brows or  slight  negative  shake  of  the  liead  gave 
evidence  that  a  mental  protest  was  being  made 


Fidelity  Before  Friendship.       211 

by  the  sympathetic  yet  alert  listener.  A  nota- 
ble instance  of  his  fidelity  to  his  convictions, 
showing  that  no  consideration  of  friendship  or 
affection  could  bias  his  judgment  or  cause  him 
to  compromise  his  duty,  may  be  mentioned 
here.  Among  his  most  intimate  friends  was  a 
distinguished  writer  and  educator  of  national 
fame — a  man  of  genius,  a  scholar  and  a  teach- 
er as  estimable  and  lovable  in  personal  char- 
acter as  he  was  admirable  for  his  gifts  and 
acquirements  in  the  fields  of  letters  and  divin- 
ity. This  profound  and  brilliant  writer  and 
cherished  friend  wrote  a  work  on  an  unhack- 
neyed but  in\T.ting  topic,  and  put  into  it  his 
best  powers.  It  was  strong,  original,  beauti- 
ful—a masterpiece  in  thought  and  style.  It 
was  placed  in  Dr.  Summers's  hands  prepara- 
tory to  its  publication  in  book-form.  It  was 
read  by  him  with  admiration  and  delight,  but 
he  thought  there  was  in  it  a  tinge  of  error  with 
regard  to  the  nature  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
"Do  not  print'it  as  it  is,"  said  he  to  his  friend; 
"it  is  a  noble  production — grand,  beautiful, 
and  full  of  inspiration — yet  it  givps  a  wrong 


212  Dr.  Summers. 


view  of  an  important  matter.  The  book  print- 
ed as  it  is  written  would  charm  many  readers, 
but  it  would  teach  error.  Revise  it,  and  then 
print  it."  This  was  an  invaluable  trait  in  Dr. 
Summers  as  an  editor:  Where  the  truth  was 
involved,  he  knew  no  man  after  the  flesh. 
Truth  was  dearer  to  him  than  friendship,  and 
if  occasion  had  called  for  it  he  would  have 
stood  for  it  against  the  world.  And  yet  he 
was  personally  the  most  partial  of  friends.  His 
love  for  a  man  magnified  every  virtue  and 
veiled  or  palliated  every  weakness.  When  he 
gave  his  heart  to  a  fellow-creature  he  gave  it 
all.  The  old  men  he  loved  were  all  venerated 
saints,  the  young  men  lie  loved  were  embryo 
apostles  and  sages.  The  brides  he  married 
were  the  most  beautiful  on  earth,  the  chil- 
dren he  baptized  were  the  sweetest,  the  saints 
he  buried  were  the  holiest.  This  disix)sition 
to  magnify  all  within  the  charmed  circle  of  his 
special  friendship  often  caused  a  smile,  but  it 
made  him  more  lovable,  and  if  had  a  natural 
tendency  to  enlarge  that  circle.  And  it  was 
indeed  a  wide  and  widening  circle  that  em- 


MoitE  Useful  Than  Popular.       213 

braced  the  many  that  had  a  warm  place  in  their 
inner  hearts  for  this  ingenuous,  sympathetic, 
wide-reaching,  yet  intense  lover  of  truth  and 
of  good  people.  He  could  say  to  a  brother 
minister  who  differed  with  him  in  his  mode  of 
stating  certain  doctrinal  points  considered  fun- 
damental, "Get  out  of  the  Methodist  Church! 
You  are  no  Methodist;  get  out!"  and  yet  do  it 
in  such  a  spirit  that  the  generous,  chivalrous 
object  of  his  orthodox  wrath  took  no  offense,  but 
spoke  of  it  in  laughing  good  humor  after  death 
had  hushed  the  reproving  voice  of  his  censor. 
From  what  has  already  been  said,  it  will  not 
surprise  the  reader  when  we  say  that  as  an  ed- 
itor Dr.  Summers  was  more  useful  than  popu- 
lar. His  vast  knowledge,  his  fidelity  to  trutli, 
his  quick  and  clear  perception  of  the  quality 
of  all  doctrinal  utterances  that  came  under  his 
notice,  were  recognized  and  appreciated.  He 
was  looked  upon  as  a  safe  exponent  of  Meth- 
odism, and  was  regarded  with  reverence  and 
affection  by  the  whole  Church.  But  he  was 
too  much  of  a  polemic,  and  lived  too  much  in 
the  book-world,  to  give  him  access  as  a  writei 


214  Dr.  SuMMEits. 


to  the  masses.  His  mental  world  was  different 
from  theirs.  He  wrote  much  that  they  only 
glanced  at,  turning  it  over  to  the  scholars  and 
students  for  whom  it  seemed  to  be  designed. 
But  there  was  one  class  of  topics  in  the  treat- 
ment of  which  he  always  touched  responsive 
chords  in  religious  souls.  The  glow  of  true 
piety  was  in  all  his  utterances  with  regard  to 
devotion  and  practical  Christianity.  The  in- 
spiration of  a  devout  and  earnest  Christian 
spirit  was  unmistakable.  The  spontaneity  and 
enthusiasm  of  his  nature  appeared  and  had  full 
sweep  when  he  wrote  on  this  line  of  things. 
His  exegetics  and  homiletics  might  smell  of 
the  lamp,  but  when  he  talked  of  God  as  a  Fa- 
ther, of  Jesus  as  a  Saviour,  and  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  as  a  Comforter,  his  thoughts  were  per- 
fumed with  the  odors  of  heaven.  A  favorite 
theme  with  him  was  the  resurrection.  At  the 
joyous  Easter  season  it  was  his  custom  every 
year  to  indite  an  elaborate  article  on  that  soul- 
inspiring  topic,  and  the  pages  of  the  Christian 
Adrocaie  then  seemed  to  glow  with  the  light 
and  throb  with  the  resurrection-life  of  the  Son 


On  the  Resurrection.  215 

of  God.  To  him  the  fact  of  the  resurrection 
of  the  body  of  Jesus  was  certain,  and  the  hope 
of  his  own  resurrection  lively  and  joyous. 
Hear  him  speak  on  his  favorite  theme : 

THE  EESUKRECTION  OF  JESUS  CHEIST. 

The  Feast  of  the  Resurrection  has  been  observed  by 
nearly  all  the  Christian  Cliurch  from  the  times  of  tlie  apos- 
tles. The  first  disciples  of  Christ  were  all  Jews,  and  they 
did  not  cease  to  observe  the  Feast  of  tlie  Passover  when 
they  separated  themselves  from  their  unbelieving  brethren. 
But  in  keeping  it  they  looked  back  upon  tlie  death  and  res- 
urrection of  Christ  as  accomplished  facts,  as  before  those 
events  took  place  they  looked  forward  to  their  accomplish- 
ment in  the  future.  "Christ  our  Passover,"  says  Paul,  "is 
sacrificed  for  us,  therefore  let  us  keep  the  feast."  Wlien 
the  Gentiles  were  converted,  and  brought  into  the  Church, 
they  united  with  their  Hebrew  brethren  in  this  celebration, 
as  this  passover  belongs  to  all  the  Israel  of  God,  whether 
Jews  or  Gentiles.  In  a  few  years,  indeed,  a  controversy 
arose  between  the  two  constituencies  of  the  Church  as  to 
the  day  on  which  the  Pascha  should  be  observed ;  wliether 
it  should  be  always  two  days  after  the  day  of  tlie  vernal 
full  moon,  when  the  Jews  had  been  accustomed  to  celebrate 
the  passover,  or  the  first  Sunday  after  it,  as  our  Lord  arose 
on  Sunday.  But  this  controversy  was  settled  at  the  Council 
of  Nice,  A.D.  325,  in  favor  of  the  Sunday  celebration,  and 
nearlv  all  the  Christian  world  has  so  observed  it  ever  since. 


216  Dr.  Summers. 


There  is,  indeed,  no  positive  scriptural  command  for  its 
observance;  but  as  it  tends  so  greatly  to  establish  the  faith 
of  Christendom,  and  is  withal  so  inspiring  to  our  hopes, 
and  so  exceeding  full  of  comfort  and  joy,  we  should  demand 
a  positive  prohibition  before  we  would  dream  of  relinquish- 
ing so  great  a  benefit. 

The  very  fact  of  its  observance  down  through  all  the 
Christian  ages  is  a  powerful  argument  in  favor  of  Chris- 
tianity— indeed,  it  constitutes  one  of  the  historical  evi- 
dences of  its  trutli,  which  cannot  be  readily  set  aside.  It  is 
not  wonderful  that  skei)tics  should  call  in  question  the  great 
fact  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  and  should  expend  all 
their  strength  in  efforts  to  disprove  it — for  Cliristianity 
stands  or  falls  with  it.  But  despite  tlie  bungling  attempts 
of  the  Jews  to  disprove  it  at  the  time  of  its  occurrence,  and 
the  more  subtle  attempts  of  Hume,  Strauss,  Renan,  Schenk- 
el,  Cobbe,  Abbott,  and  otiiers  of  modern  times,  its  impor- 
tance as  a  doctrine  is  beyond  all  hyperbole. 

The  presumptions,  proofs,  and  demonstrations  of  the 
resurrection  of  Christ  are  as  clear,  cogent,  and  satisfactory 
as  ever  they  were.  They  cannot  be  weakened  by  the  lapse 
of  time.  The  attacks  of  infidels  have  led  to  more  thorough 
apologetic  investigation,  and  the  fuller  and  more  satisfac- 
tory establishment  of  the  claims  of  the  Gospel  histories  to 
the  antiquity,  genuineness,  and  authenticity  which  we  have 
claimed  for  them.  Infidels  no  longer  question  the  identity 
of  Jesus  of  Nazareth — they  admit  the  substantial  verity  of 
the  Cfosjjels — they  allow  that  the  wonderful  Nazarene  peas- 


The  Presumptions.  217 

ant  wjis  a  man  of  surpassing  wisdom  and  virtue,  and  that 
he  was  unjustly  and  barbarously  put  to  death.  But  hia 
resurrection,  they  contend,  is  a  myth  devised  by  his  credu- 
lous and  fanatical  followers.  But  all  the  presumptions  are 
point-blank  opposed  to  this.  The  Gospels  which  inform  us 
of  his  wisdom  and  virtue  record  also  his  miracles  and  proph- 
ecies; in  particular  they  tell  us  that  he  repeatedly  predicted 
his  own  death  and  resurrection — the  circumstances  of  his 
death,  and  the  time  of  his  resurrection.  As  a  wise  man, 
he  would  not  venture  on  such  predictions  unless  he  foresavr 
the  facts;  and  as  a  good  man,  he  could  not  utter  pretended 
predictions  which  he  knew  were  false. 

It  is  admitted  that  Jesus  died  as  he  predicted — precisely 
80  in  regard  to  the  time  and  i)lace  and  manner  and  agents 
in  the  bloody  tragedy.  The  exact  fulfillment  of  the  pre- 
diction of  his  death  affords  a  strong  presumption  in  favoi 
of  his  prediction  concerning  his  resurrection  within  three 
days.  Accordingly,  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day  liis 
tomb  is  vacant.  That  tomb  was  a  new  one,  excavated  in 
the  solid  rock,  with  but  one  way  of  entrance  or  exit,  and 
that  way  was  closed  with  a  great  stone  which  was  rolletl  tn 
the  mouth  of  the  sepulcher,  securely  fastened,  and  carefully 
sealed,  and  vigilantly  guarded  by  a  band  of  Eoman  soldiers. 
When  the  stone  was  found  rolled  away,  and  the  body  was 
gone,  the  Jews  indeed  started  a  clumsy  story,  and  bribed 
the  Eoman  guard  to  give  it  currency,  that  the  disciples  of 
Jesus  stole  away  the  body  while  they  were  asleep !  A  Eo- 
man guard  asleep  at  tLeir  post  when  certain  death  was  the 


218  Dr.  Summers. 


penalty!  All  of  the  cohort  asleep  at  the  same  timel  All 
BO  sound  asleep  that  not  one  of  tliem  was  aroused  by  the 
rolling  away  of  the  stone  and  the  carrying  away  of  the 
corpse!  And  then  the  disciples,  who  liad  recently  forsaken 
their  Master  with  cowardly  fear,  had  suddenly  mustered 
the  courage  to  steal  his  corfjse  from  under  the  custtxly  of  a 
band  of  armed  soldiers,  they  themselves  unarme<l !  The 
discii^les,  who  were  few  and  feeble  and  dispirited,  they  stole 
him  away  I  And  pray  what  did  they  do  with  him  after 
stealing  him?  "Where  did  they  put  him?  "What  became 
of  him?  Did  they  exhibit  the  corpse  as  a  souvaiir — a 
mummy  as  a  memento  of  their  once  loved  Master,  who  had 
shamefully  betrayed  their  undoubting  trust  and  cruelly  dis- 
appointed all  their  sanguine  hopes!  No,  no;  the  disciples 
may  iiave  betrayed  him,  denied  him,  forsaken  him,  or  even 
bemoanetl  him,  Init  they  never  liad  the  courage  nor  tlie 
folly  to  steal  him! 

Of  course,  no  one  supposes  that  the  Romans  or  Jews 
removed  him,  as  that  would  tend  to  support  the  imjwsture 
which  they  detested.  The  presumption  is  therefore  strong 
and  impregnable  that  he  rose  from  the  dead,  as  he  and  the 
prophets  had  predicted. 

The  proofs  of  Christ's  resurrection  are  clear  and  cogent. 
He  showed  himself  alive  after  his  passion  by  many  infalli- 
ble proofs.  He  apjx;ared  first  to  Mary  Magdalene,  one  of 
his  constant  attendants;  then  to  other  women,  to  whom  he 
was  most  familiarly  known.  Then  to  Simon  Peter,  who 
had  just  before  denie<l  him,  and  bitterly  repenteil  the  de- 


The  Proofs.  219 


nial.  Then  to  two  disciples  on  a  jonrney  to  Emmaus,  when 
he  made  himself  known  to  them  in  his  peculiar  manner  of 
breaking  bread  and  conversing  with  them.  Then,  on  the 
same  Sunday,  to  ten  of  the  apostles  who  were  met  together 
in  a  private  room  for  fear  of  the  Jews,  Avho  were  excited  by 
the  account  of  his  resurrection.  He  knew  where  they  were, 
and  why  they  were  there,  and  he  ojiened  the  door  unex- 
pectedly, and  "then  were  the  disciples  glad  when  they  saw 
the  Lord."  A  week  after,  he  visited  them  in  like  manner 
when  all  the  eleven  were  present,  and  challenged  the  per- 
sistent skepticism  of  one  of  them  who  was  absent  at  the 
former  interview,  and  overcame  his  unbelief  by  showing 
the  scars  of  the  wounds  in  his  hands  and  feet  and  side,  and 
forced  him  to  exclaim,  "My  Lord  and  my  God!"  Thus, 
the  incredulity  of  Thomas,  being  overcome  with  such  over- 
whelming evidence,  tends  to  the  firmer  establishment  of  our 
faith.  He  had  a  special,  personal  interview  with  James — 
at  what  time  and  for  what  particular  reason  are  not  record- 
ed. He  showed  himself  under  remarkable  circumstances 
to  seven  of  the  apostles  on  the  Sea  of  Tiberias,  where  he 
had  been  accustomed  during  life  to  have  intercourse  with 
them.  The  miracle  which  lie  then  wrought  established  the 
identity  of  their  Master,  and  his  eating  with  them,  as  on  a 
former  interview,  showed  that  he  had  really  risen  in  his 
own  body  of  flesh  and  bones,  and  that  it  was  not  a  jDhantora 
which  had  appeared  to  them.  He  afterward  fulfilled  an 
engagement  with  the  eleven  apostles  on  a  mountain  in  Gal- 
ilee; and  about  the  same  time  showed  himself  to  alx)ve  five 


220  Db.  Summers. 


hundred  brethren  at  once,  some  of  whom  were  still  living 
when  several  years  afterward  Paul  positively  m<ide  the  as- 
sertion. He  finally  summoned  all  the  apostles  tc^ether 
and  led  them  out  as  far  as  the  confines  of  the  r^on  of 
Bethany,  on  the  brow  of  Mount  Olivet,  where,  after  repeat- 
ing the  great  gospel  commission,  "  he  was  parted  from  them, 
and  a  cloud  received  him  out  of  their  sight."  He  ascended 
into  heaven,  and  they  saw  him  ascend. 

Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  Christ  did  not  make  his 
appearance  to  promiscuous  crowds,  whose  fanatical  frenzy 
would  make  them  ineligible  as  witnesses  to  such  a  fact — to 
establish  his  personal  identity.  But  it  was  to  those  who 
knew  him  well,  and  were  in  all  respects  best  qualified  to 
depose  to  such  a  fact  if  it  Jiad  really  occurred — and  they 
did  depose  to  it.  They  said  tliat  they  talked  familiarly  and 
frequently  with  him;  they  ate  and  drank  with  him;  they 
looked  closely  upon  him,  and  handled  him.  They  knew 
his  form,  his  features,  liis  voice,  his  manner,  and  when  he 
thus  appeared  to  them  they  said,  "It  is  the  Lord!"  "The 
Lord  is  risen  indeed!"  And  they  never  wavered  in  their 
testimony.  They  knew  it  would  involve  the  sacrifice  of 
friends,  reputation,  property,  ease,  comfort,  and  life  itself; 
but  notwithstanding  this,  they  never  faltered  or  failed  in 
liearing  witness  of  the  resurrection  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  till 
they  sealed  their  testimony  and  attested  their  sincerity  by 
their  blood.  They  challenged  the  most  rigid  scrutiny  into 
the  case,  at  the  very  time  and  place  when  and  where  it 
{irofessedly  occurred ;  and  the  result  was  a  most  triumphant 


The  Proofs.         '  221 


vindication  of  its  reality,  for  thousands  upon  thousands  be- 
lieved the  fact,  and  even  a  great  company  of  the  priests 
were  obedient  to  the.  faith. 

The  record  of  these  occurrences  was  made  shortly  after 
they  took  place  by  eye-witnesses,  who  were  quorum  pars  in 
the  premises ;  and  their  statements  were  unchallenged  by 
their  enemies.  Their  narratives  were  copied  and  translated 
into  the  principal  tongues  then  spoken,  and  were  circulated 
all  over  the  world.  They  were  quoted  so  extensively  in 
the  works  of  friends  and  foes,  during  tlie  century  or  two 
which  followed  their  publication,  that  if  the  Gospels  were 
lost  nearly  all  their  contents  could  be  supplied  from  the 
works  in  question. 

Imposture  was  absolutely  impossible — there  could  be  no 
fraud.  What  room  was  there  for  deception?  As  little  was 
there  for  fanaticism  or  mistake.  There  are  no  writings 
upon  the  earth  so  remarkable  for  simplicity,  consistency, 
majesty,  and  self-evidencing  truthfulness  as  the  Christian 
Scriptures.  Any  man  shows  himself  to  be  a  fool  who  says 
that  Matthew  or  John  was  one.  " This  is  the  disciple  which 
testifieth  of  these  things,  and  wrote  these  things;  and  we 
know  that  his  testimony  is  true." 

This  testimony  was  borne  against  the  violent  opposition 
of  all  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  powers  upon  the  earth,  as 
well  as  against  popular  rage  and  malice;  and  j'et  it  was 
borne  consistently,  persistently,  successfully.  Had  Jesus 
appeared  to  the  priests  and  rulers,  Jewish  or  Eoman,  and 
had  they,  as  sucli,  espoused  his  cause,  there  might  have 


222  Dr.  SuMMERfi. 


been  gn)und  to  suspect  collusion  and  fraud,  as  the  powers 
of  the  earth  liave  been  ready  enongh  to  ally  themselves 
with  imix)stor8  for  ulterior  purposes  of  worldly  aggrandize- 
ment. But  he  passed  them  all  by,  and  appeared  to  his  own 
obscure  followers,  who  had  nothing  but  honesty  and  sin- 
cerity, and  perfect  acquaintance  with  him  and  his  cause, 
and  an  undying  affection  for  both,  to  qualify  tliem  for  their 
office  and  work  as  witnesses  of  his  resurrection.  Yes,  they 
had  other  qualifications,  as  we  shall  now  notice. 

Locke  says:  "Those  intervening  ideas  which  serve  to 
show  the  agreement  of  any  two  others  are  called  proofs; 
and  where  the  agreement  or  disagreement  is  by  this  means 
plainly  and  clearly  perceive<l,  it  is  called  demonstration." 

In  addition  to  the  pregnant  presumptions  and  impreg- 
nable proofs  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  (.^hrist,  there  were 
and  are  absolutely  overiwwering  demonstrations  of  the  fact. 
The  ancient  prophets  had  predicte<l  that  great  signs  and 
wonders  should  attest  the  resurrection  of  tlie  Messiah;  and 
John  the  Baptist  had  declared  that  he  sliould  baptize  his 
disciples  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire.  Jesus  him- 
self had  explained  and  repeated  these  predictions,  assuring 
liis  disciples  that  though  he  should  die  he  would  rise  again, 
and  though  it  was  not  exjwdient  for  him  to  remain  with 
them  after  his  resurrection,  yet  he  would  send  them  anoth- 
er Paraclete  to  abide  with  them  forever,  even  the  Spirit  of 
the  tnith.  He  told  them  just  as  he  was  about  leaving  them 
that  they  should  be  "baptized  with  the  Holy  Ghost  not 
many  days  hence."    Accordingly,  ten  day?  after  his  ascen- 


The  Pentecostal  Verificatiok.     223 

sion,  when  the  day  of  Pentecost  was  fully  come,  he  poured 
out  the  Spirit  upon  them  in  a  most  copious  baptism,  tlie 
symbolic  fire  sitting  ujwn  them  like  cloven  tongues,  as  if 
it  was  designed  to  indicate  the  polyglottal  powers  with 
which  they  were  suddenly  and  miraculously  endowed. 
Then,  indeed,  did  they  receive  the  promise  of  the  Father ; 
then  were  they,  according  to  his  assurance,  endued  with 
power  from  on  high.  They  could  speak  with  tongues  they 
never  had  learned,  and  thus  were  qualified  to  go  and  teach 
all  nations.  They  comprehended  infallibly  all  that  their 
Master  had  told  them — his  divine  teachings  being  brougJit 
to  their  remembrance  by  the  inspiring  Paraclete,  who  by 
his  plenary  influence  qualified  them  for  their  work.  By 
his  inspiration  they  could  discern  spirits,  they  could  predict 
future  events,  tliey  could  understand  all  mysteries.  By  liis 
efficacious  jwwers  working  witliin  them  they  could  perform 
astounding  miracles,  causing  tlie  lame  to  walk,  the  blind  u> 
see,  the  dead  to  live.  These  signs  and  wonders  were  dis- 
played before  assembled  multitudes,  and  before  select  com- 
panies, and  under  different  circumstances,  and  at  various 
times,  and  with  great  frequency,  throughout  the  whole 
course  of  their  lives;  and  to  show  that  there  was  no  possi- 
bility of  collusion,  or  fraud,  or  imposture,  they  were  ena- 
bled to  impart  the  elixtrismata  of  the  Spirit — miraculous 
gifts  and  powers — to  their  converts,  and  did  so  in  all  parts 
of  the  world  v/hither  they  went.  They  thus  not  only  estab- 
lislied  tlieir  divine  legation  as  apostles,  but  also  demon- 
strated the  resurrection  of  their  Lord.     For,  put  the  case : 


224  Dn.  Summers. 


Suppose  he  was  an  inij)ostor,  and,  r,f  course,  never  rose  from 
the  dead  (for  God  does  not  work  miracles  to  ^establish  im- 
posture)— suppose  lie  had  "seen  corruption,"  whether  in 
Joseph's  tomb  where  he  was  first  laid,  or  in  another  to 
which,  as  the  Jews  pretendetl,  his  disciples  conveyed  him — 
would  any  one  of  his  predictions  have  been  vejified? 
Would  he  have  poured  out  the  Spirit  on  the  day  of  Pen- 
tecost? Would  he  have  endued  the  disciples  with  power 
from  on  high?  Would  he  have — but  we  are  ashamed  to 
continue  the  category  of  absurdities.  Without  Easter,  no 
Pentecost !  No  resurrection,  no  ascension ;  no  ascension,  no 
baptism  of  the  Spirit.  Without  tliis,  no  gospel  to  be 
preached;  no  apostles  to  preach;  and  if  there  were,  their 
preaching  would  be  vain,  and  our  faith  would  be  vain. 
Christianity  would  be  an  absurdity,  an  impossibility.  But 
is  there  no  Christianity?  Has  there  been  no  Pentecost? 
Have  yc  not  reccive<l  the  Holy  Ghost?  Ever}'  sinner  who 
has  been  awakene<l  by  the  gospel  aiU — wlio  has  felt  tlie 
stirrings  of  the  Spirit,  yielded  to  his  grace,  experienced  his 
regenerating  power  and  his  inward  witness — carries  about 
with  him  a  demonstration  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ.  And  how  overi)Owering  the  demonstration,  when 
we  cite  the  multitudes  that  no  man  can  number,  of  every 
nation  and  kindred  and  tongue,  who  have  felt  his  resurrec- 
tion power,  and  whose  holy  and  happy  lives,  and  hopeful  and 
triumphant  deaths,  attest  the  glorious  fact!  This  demon- 
stration gathers  strength  as  the  ages  roll  along,  and  the  na- 
tions of  the  redeemed  are  multiplied  upon  the  earth.    The 


"XoTinxCr  TO  Edit."  225 

noble  outburst  of  tbe  apostle,  who  was  one  of  the  first  wit- 
nesses of  it,  shall  go  on  echoing  down  through  the  corridors 
of  time:  "Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Je- 
sus Clirist,  which  according  to  his  abundant  mercy  hath 
begotten  us  again  unto  a  lively  hope  by  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead!"  Instead  of  waning,  this 
grand  demonstration  will  wax  stronger  and  stronger  until 
it  shall  receive  its  glorious  culmination  when  the  voice  of 
the  archangel  and  the  trump  of  God  shall  raise  tlie  sleep- 
ing millions  of  his  saints,  for  the  resurrection  of  the  mem- 
bers will  indeed  attest  the  resurrection  of  their  Head,  as 
las  resurrection  is  the  guaranty  of  theirs. 

Dr.  Summers  had  a  passion  for  editorial 
work.  "I  have  nothing  to  edit,"  he  said  one 
day  in  1879  or  1880,  and  there  was  a  real  pathos 
in  his  tone.  Nothing  to  edit!  He  felt  as  if  he 
had  lapsed  into  idleness,  though  he  was  then 
Professor  of  Systematic  Theology  in  Vander- 
bilt  University,  Dean  of  the  Theological  Fac- 
ulty in  that  institution,  and  Book  Editor  of  the 
Southern  Methodist  Church.  Not  long  after, 
he  was  recalled  to  the  editorship  of  the  South- 
ern Methodist  Quarterly  Review;  and  he  threw 
into  that  service  extraordinary  energy.  The 
quantity  and  quality  of  his  work  astonished 


226  Dn.  Summers. 


even  his  most  partial  friends.  A  large  part  of 
the  contents  of  each  number  was  from  his  own 
tireless  pen.  As  if  with  a  jiremonition  that 
the  night  was  coming  when  no  more  work  could 
be  done  by  him,  he  hastened  to  put  on  record 
his  matured  views  concerning  the  questions 
that  were  then  engaging  the  thought  of  his 
own  Church  and  the  Christian  world  in  gen- 
eral. His  doctrinal  views  were  expressed  with 
an  earnestness  of  conviction  that  seemed  to  be 
intensified  by  longer  study  and  ampler  reading. 
There  was  at  times  a  sort  of  sharpness  that 
indicated  a  groT^ing  impatience  with  those  who 
diluted  the  truth  or  in  any  manner  tampered 
with  it  as  it  stood  in  the  orthodox  standards 
to  which  he  had  given  his  adhesion.  The  prop- 
osition to  use  unfermented  wine  in  the  admin- 
istration of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
psr  filled  his  soul  with  blazing  indignation. 
"Slops  at  the  Lord's-table !  Slops!  I  would 
not  consent  to  such  nonsense— no,  not  for  one 
moment.  No,  sir,  that  will  never  be  done  by 
me!"  And  his  teeth  would  "champ"  with 
that  peculiar  energy  exhibited  by  him  wlien 


Clasping  Hands.  227 

under  mental  excitement.  The  strain  on  his 
nervous  system  reacted  on  his  style  toward 
the  last,  and  there  was  in  one  or  two  in- 
stances an  intensity  that  was  almost  painful. 
Always  sufficiently  dogmatic,  there  was  at  the 
same  time  such  a  tone  of  frank  good  nature 
about  all  he  said  that  it  was  very  rare  that 
even  those  who  felt  most  keenly  the  force  of 
his  blows  thought  of  taking  offense.  Under 
the  circumstances  mentioned  his  dogmatism 
seemed  to  be  more  pronounced,  but  his  deep- 
rooted,  invincible  Christian  charity  shone  forth 
as  beautifully  as  ever.  A  correspondence  be- 
tween him  and  his  brother  editor  and  com- 
mentator, the  clear,  strong,  keen -edged  Dr. 
Daniel  Whedon,  of  the  Methodist  Quarterhj  Re~ 
vieiv,  showed  hoAv  two  veteran  journalistic  war- 
riors, who  had  shivered  many  a  lance  in  tilts 
when  the  red  flag  was  flying,  could  love  each 
other  when  the  white  banner  of  peace  was 
floating  over  Church  and  State.  It  Avas  a  little 
amusing  to  see  how  each  of  them  sturdily  stood 
to  their  old  positions  verbally,  and  yet  clasped 
hands  in  mutual  recognition  of  Christian  no- 


228  Dr.  Summers. 


bility.  It  was  a  striking  illustration  of  a  truth 
too  often  forgotten,  namely,  that  unity  of 
spirit  may  coexist  with  large  difference  in 
ideas.  The  general  acceptance  of  this  truth 
by  the  followers  of  our  Lord  must  precede  and 
prepare  the  way  for  the  fulfillment  of  his  sac- 
erdotal prayer  that  his  disciples  may  be  one, 
even  as  he  and  his  Father  are  one.  Agreement 
in  ideas  will  follow,  not  precede,  agreement  in 
spirit  and  in  the  object  supremely  sought. 
When  a  consuming  love  shall  have  fused  the 
hearts  of  believers  everywhere  into  one  glow- 
ing mass,  their  minds  will  naturally  be  molded 
into  substantial  unity  of  opinion.  They  will 
then  get  close  enough  to  each  other  to  give  to 
the  i^ersuasiveuess  of  unsectarian  love  a  pros- 
elyting power  denied  to  coercive  authority, 
polemic  skill,  or  any  other  carnal  weapon.  The 
unity  of  the  spirit  must  come  first,  and  then 
whatever  form  and  degree  of  external  oneness 
is  involved  in  the  promise  of  ^e  Head  of  the 
Church  will  quickly  follow,  "^nd  then  the 
Bride  of  Christ  will  be  arrayed  in  her  beauti- 
ful garments,  and  the  world  will  be  ravished 


The  Coming  Day.  229 

witli  her  charms.  Out  of  Zion,  the  perfection 
of  beauty,  God  will  shine,  and  Jesus,  lifted  up 
before  the  nations  in  the  fullness  of  his  grace 
and  saving  power  by  his  spotless  Church,  will 
draw  all  men  unto  him.  The  love  that  was  in 
the  heart  of  Dr.  Summers  was  a  greater  con- 
tribution to  the  forces  that  shall  hasten  that 
happy  time  than  all  his  arguments  for  the 
truth  that  seemed  to  him  so  clear  and  against 
the  errors  that  seemed  to  him  so  glaring. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DR.  SUMMERS  AS  A  TEACHER. 

THE  oflfer  of  the  chair  of  Systematic  The- 
ology in  Vanderbilt  University,  made  in 
the  year  1874,  was  too  tempting  to  Dr.  Sum- 
mers to  be  declined.  His  tastes  and  studies 
led  that  way.  His  nearest  friends  advised  him 
to  accept,  and  a  great  variety  of  concurrent 
circumstances  inclined  him  to  do  so. 

He  took  hold  of  his  work  at  Vanderbilt  with 
characteristic  energy.  The  great  possibilities 
of  the  new  university,  so  richly  endowed  and 
so  ably  manned,  fired  his  enthusiasm.  As  the 
central  and  leading  institution  of  Southern 
Methodism,  planted  at  Nashville,  the  denom- 
inational head-quarters,  with  a  broad  curricu- 
lum and  a  generous  catholicity  within  strictly 
evangelical  lines,  great  things  seemed  possible 
to  it.  The  gift  of  the  founder  seemed  to  be  so 
opportune,  and  the  initiatory  measures  so  wise- 
ly taken,  that  men  of  weaker  faith  than  Dr. 
Summers  thought  they  plainly  discerned  in 
(230) 


At  Vanderbilt.  231 


the  whole  matter  the  hand  of  God,  whose 
mercies  had  been  so  wonderfully  manifested  to 
the  South,  while  the  track  of  devastating  war 
was  yet  fresh,  and  while  its  women  were  yet 
weeping  among  the  graves  of  its  dead  heroes. 
The  benefaction  of  Commodore  Vanderbilt  for 
Christian  education  in  the  South  seemed  to 
mark  the  real  turn  in  the  tide  of  fortune,  and 
gave  a  softening  touch  and  new  hope  to  mill- 
ions of  hearts. 

Under  these  conditions  and  with  these  hopes 
and  aspirations  Dr.  Summers  entered  upon  his 
duties  in  the  theological  department  of  Van- 
derbilt University.  As  he  was  also  editor  of 
the  Christian  Advocate,  matters  took  such  a  turn 
as  might  have  been  expected.  The  diligent 
editor  and  the  enthusiastic  professor  being 
blended  in  the  same  energetic  personality,  the 
readers  of  the  paper  were  frequently  and  fully 
apprised  of  what  was  being  done  at  the  uni- 
versity. Every  thing,  from  the  gift  of  a  rare 
old  book  to  the  library  to  a  half  million  of  dol- 
lars to  the  endowment,  was  recorded.  The 
Southern  Methodist  people  at  least  were  made 


232  T)r.  Summers. 


to  know  that  they  had  an  infant  university 
bom  under  happy  auspices  and  giving  promise 
of  healthy  and  rapid  growth.  If  any  of  his 
readers  thought  he  gave  too  much  space  to  this 
favorite  topic,  nobody  suspected  any  worse 
motive  than  his  unselfish  and  not  unamiable 
tendency  to  magnify  whatever  appealed  di- 
rectly and  strongly  to  his  approbation.  He 
and  others  were  reminded  that  a  great  univer- 
sity may  be  a  creation  as  to  its  purpose  and 
plan,  but  that  it  must  have  time  in  which  to 
grow.  He  lived  to  see  Vanderbilt  deeply  plant- 
ed in  good  soil;  those  who  come  after  him, 
there  is  abundant  reason  to  hope,  will  see  the 
full  consummation  of  the  grand  and  beneficent 
conception  in  which  it  originated. 

As  a  teacher,  as  in  every  thing  else  he  un- 
dertook, he  was  an  enthusiast.  To  him  Van- 
derbilt University  was  the  most  important  of 
all  the  schools  in  the  world,  the  Biblical  school 
the  most  important  of  all  its  Apartments,  and 
his  chair  the  most  important  of  all  its  chairs. 
This  view  of  the  matter  filled  him  with  conta- 
gious zeal,  and  imparted  a  zest  and  freshness 


Before  IIis  Class.  233 

of  spirit  in  his  work  that  were  charming  and 
cheering.  The  most  phlegmatic  theologue  was 
roused  by  his  energy  and  vivacity.  I£  some  of 
his  lectures  seemed  more  copious  in  exegetical 
or  other  information  than  seemed  needful,  a 
bit  of  harmless  satire  or  a  flash  of  wit  would 
be  sure  to  come  in  at  some  point  to  relieve  its 
heaviness.  The  perennial  youthfulness  of  his 
spirit  constantly  exhibited  itself.  When  he 
was  before  his  classes  as  a  lecturer,  the  hilarity 
at  times  was  such  as  to  excite  the  wonder  of 
visitors  or  new  students.  But  he  was  so  truly 
devout  that  a  profoundly  religious  tone  per- 
vaded all  his  work  and  intercourse  with  the 
young  men,  not  one  of  whom  ever  doubted  his 
piety,  or  withheld  from  him  genuine  esteem 
and  affection.  When  the  shadows  grew  deeper 
around  him  during  those  last  sad  months  when 
he  Avas  slowly  dying,  it  was  touching  to  see 
how  tenderly  they  regarded  him,  and  how 
deeply  they  felt  the  pathos  of  the  situation 
when  now  and  then  there  would  be  a  feeble 
flickering  of  the  flame  of  his  old-time  wit  and 
humor.     In  their  strong  arms  they  bore  him 


234  Db.  Summers. 


up  the  stairs  to  his  lecture-room  when  he  had 
become  too  weak  to  go  without  assistance. 

His  wide  reading,  unfailing  memory,  sound 
judgment,  devout  spirit,  and  flawless  orthodoxy 
were  conspicuously  exhibited  in  his  work  as  a 
theological  teacher.  He  knew  the  standards 
of  his  Church,  and  held  to  them  with  unques- 
tioning tenacity.  He  knew  what  was  heresy 
and  where  it  lurked,  and  warned  his  pupils 
against  it.  He  knew  the  diflference  between  a 
man-made,  perfunctory,  professional  preacher 
and  one  called  and  equipped  of  God  for  his 
sacred  vocation,  and  he  furnished  an  illustra- 
tion of  what  a  preacher  should  be  in  the  glow- 
ing fervor  of  his  own  soul  and  the  unstinted 
service  that  he  was  always  ready  to  give  when- 
ever and  wherever  there,  wns  a  chance  to  do 
good.  His  example  as  a  Christian  minister 
was  as  wholesome  as  his  doctrine  was  orthodox. 
His  colleagues  formed  with  him  a  select  circle 
combining  qualities  rarely  met  in  such  full 
measure  among  an  equal  number  of  men.  There 
was  Dr.  A.  M.  Shipp,  a  Grecian  in  scholarship, 
a  Roman  in  dignified  simplicity  and  strength 


' ANDERBILT  COLLEAGUES.  235 

of  character;  Dr.  Thomas  J.  Dodd,  deep  in 
Hebrew,  silver-tongued  in  English,  a  Christian 
gentleman  whose  society  was  an  inspiration  to 
conduct  and  an  education  in  manners;  and 
Dr.  John  C.  Granbery,  whose  deep  spirituality, 
strong,  well-balanced  intellect,  and  thorough 
Christian  and  scholastic  culture  have  since 
caused  him  to  be  called  to  the  bishopric. 

Dr.  Summers's  personality  pervaded  the 
university  to  a  remarkable  degree.  He  scat- 
tered his  knowledge  broadcast  in  his  lectures; 
he  acted  as  chaplain  when  necessary,  being  al- 
ways ready  to  preach;  when  a  visitor  did  the 
preaching  he  was  there  to  introduce  him  and 
conclude  the  service;  he  was  present  and  an 
active  participant  in  all  the  social  devotional 
meetings  of  the  university;  and  as  Dean  of  the 
Faculty  he  represented  the  institution  at  home 
and  abroad.  These  manifold  functions  suited 
his  temperament,  and  he  came  as  near  attain- 
ing ubiquity  and  perpetual  motion  in  his  own 
person  as  is  possible  to  a  mortal  man.  When 
it  is  remembered  that  during  all  this  time  he 
was  the  editor  of  a  religious  periodical  and 


236  Dr.  Summers. 


general  book  editor  of  the  Church,  and  a  fre- 
quent supply  for  the  pulpits  of  the  different 
Protestant  denominations  of  Nashville,  an  idea 
may  be  fornied  of  his  amazing  working  capac- 
ity. No  busier  life  has  been  given  to  the  cause 
of  Christ  than  that  of  Dr.  Summers.  He  gave 
his  all,  and  he  gave  it  ungrudgingly,  joyfully. 
His  work  during  the  eight  years  of  his 
service  for  Vanderbilt  University  will  be  bear- 
ing fruit  in  generations  yet  to  come.  It  was 
the  work  of  a  man  of  God  who  exhibited  the 
spirit  of  his  Master  in  all  his  toils,  and  was 
faithful  unto  death. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

DR.  SUMMERS  AS  A  PREACHER 

THE  heading  of  this  chapter  will  stir  ten- 
der and  sacred  memories  in  the  minds  of 
many  readers.  They  will  remember  the  com- 
pact, elastic  frame,  the  reverend  gray  head,  the 
strong,  sonorous  voice,  the  impetuous  rush  of 
his  utterance,  the  play  of  his  wit,  and  the 
touches  of  true  because  unpremeditated  pathos. 
His  voice  was  one  that  the  hearer  did  not 
like  at  first^t  was  an  overbearing  sort  of 
voice;  but  soon  it  was  felt  that  it  was  his  own 
natural  voice,  and  suited  him.  In  his  prayers 
certain  forms  of  expression  taken  from  the 
ancient  liturgies  were  often  on  his  lips.  But 
he  had  too  much  of  genuine  Methodist  sponta- 
neity to  stop  with  these  formal  petitions,  and 
he  pleaded  with  God  with  importunate  ear- 
nestness. He  was  powerful  in  prayer  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word.  He  read  a  hymn  with 
something  of  a  flourish — when  it  happened 
to  be  one  that  he  specially  liked  he  would  roll 

(•237) 


238  Dr.  Summers. 


it  forth  with  a  strength  of  voice  and  a  zest  that 
was  peculiar  to  himself.  Indeed,  he  would 
almost  declaim  his  favorite  hymns,  throwing 
himself  into  striking  attitudes  and  trumpeting 
the  verses  in  tones  so  eiiergetic  as  to  startle  the 
unprepared  listener.  Intensity  characterized 
all  he  did  in  the  pulpit.  If  he  recited  the 
events  in  a  Biblical  narrative;  if  he  presented 
the  facts  bearing  upon  any  special  transaction ; 
if  he  conducted  an  argument  in  support  of  any 
doctrine  of  Christianity;  if  he  made  an  appeal 
to  the  conscience  of  a  sinner,  or  sought  to  ad- 
minister comfort  to  a  sorrowing  heert — no  mat- 
ter what  he  undertook,  he  put  his  whole  soul 
and  body  into  it.  Whatever  he  had  in  hand 
was  for  the  time  being  the  one  question  of  ab- 
sorbing interest  to  him.  And  so  his  audiences 
always  felt  sure  that  they  would  be  interested 
and  instructed  by  his  sermons.  At  times  he 
made  free  use  of  notes;  but  he  could  not  sub- 
mit to  their  restraint,  and  breaking  away  from 
them  he  would  rush  to  the  edge  of  the  rostrum, 
and  charge  home  upon  his  hearers  with  aston- 
ishing vehemence.     He  had  a  way  when  much 


The  Assumed  Heretic.  239 

aroused  of  turning  upon  any  clerical  brother 
who  might  be  sitting  behind  him  in  the  pulpit 
and  personating  him  as  an  objector  to  the 
truth,  belaboring  fearfully  the  supposititious 
blockhead  or  heretic.  Once  he  was  preaching 
on  the  unity  of  the  human  race,  and  after  prov- 
ing to  his  own  perfect  satisfaction  that  God 
had  indeed  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth,  he  turned  upon  an  unsuspecting 
preacher  who  sat  behind  him  and  thundered 
at  him  with  these  words:  "And  yet  you  tell  me 
that  the  Bible  is  wrong,  and  that  the  silly  and 
conceited  infidels  of  to-day  are  right!  Don't 
you  see,  sir,  that  you  are  an  offense  to  reason, 
religion,  and  modesty?"  gesticulating  fiercely 
as  he  spoke,  his  clinched  fist  coming  in  alarm- 
ingly close  proximity  to  the  face  of  the  aston- 
ished and  innocent  brother  who  almost  felt  as 
if  he  ought  to  rise  and  disclaim  the  sentiments 
thus  attributed  to  him.  The  audience  smiled 
at  the  undisguised  uneasiness  of  the  assumed 
heretic,  well  knowing  that  if  all  the  actual 
heretics  in  the  world  were  placed  in  Dr.  Sum- 
mers's power  the  worst  they  would  have  to  fear 


240  Dr.  Summers. 


would  be  a  heavy  and  protracted  bombardment 
of  facts  and  argumentation. 

A  chief  excellence  of  Dr.  Summers's  sermons 
was  his  firm  grasp  of  the  principles  and  com- 
plete mastery  of  the  facts  involved  in  the  sub- 
ject discussed.  If  asked  what  was  his  peculiar 
style  of  preaching,  it  would  be  hard  to  answer 
categorically.  No  preacher  worthy  of  the  name 
is  wholly  expository,  textual,  or  topical.  He 
is  all  of  these  in  turn,  his  mode  of  treating  a 
text  differing  according  to  the  attendant  cir- 
cumstances and  the  nature  of  the  text  itself. 
He  excelled  in  exposition  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  delighted  in  it.  In  discussing  any  of  the 
great  fundamental  doctrines  of  Christianity  he 
poured  forth  a  wealth  of  learning  and  an  array 
of  scriptural  proofs  that  left  nothing  to  be  de- 
sired. If  the  affluence  of  his  resources  at  times 
made  him  go  beyond  the  necessities  of  the  case 
and  the  patience  of  a  class  of  hearers,  the  most 
thoughtful  and  intelligent  persons  among  them 
felt  amply  repaid  for  their  time  and  attention. 
Nobody  ever  dreaded  that  he  would  present  a 
congregation  with  a  crude,  ill-digested,  half- 


His  Pabamount  Aim.  241 

prepared  discourse.  He  might  now  and  then 
be  over-elaborate  and  redundant  in  learning, 
but  never  shallow  and  slipshod  in  the  pulpit. 
He  used  only  beaten  oil  in  the  sanctuary,  being 
free  from  that  mixture  of  weak  egotism  and 
stupid  fanaticism  that  leads  some  men  to  think 
that  a  miracle  will  be  v/rought  for  a  man  in  the 
pulpit  to  save  him  from  the  legitimate  conse- 
quences of  his  indolence  out  of  it.  Dr.  Sum- 
mers fed  the  people  with  knowledge,  and  hear- 
ers with  healthy  minds  relished  the  wholesome 
fare  he  set  before  them.  He  was  not  lacking 
in  rhetorical  adornment  and  illustrative  image- 
ry, but  these  were  incidental  to  the  main  pur- 
pose of  his  preaching,  which  was  'to  instruct, 
to  reprove,  to  persuade,  and  to  save  his  hearers. 
That  this  was  his  aim  was  apparent  to  all,  and 
if  some  peculiarity  of  expression  or  gesture  at 
times  caused  a  smile  or  a  laugh  it  was  but  as  a 
bubble  on  the  surface  of  a  stream  whose  cur- 
rent was  running  deep  and  strong  below.  He 
was  what  some  would  have  called  a  doctrinal 
preacher — a  vague  expression  used  to  describe 
alike  the  masters  who  unfold  and  illuminate 


242  De.  Summers. 


the  great  underlying  principles  of  the  gospel 
and  the  tedious  tormentors  whose  "  doctrinal " 
sermons  have  no  more  life  than  skeletons  hung 
on  wires.  Doctrinal  with  these  latter  means 
dry,  dusty,  drowsy,  dead.  With  Dr.  Summers 
it  meant  Christian  truth  in  its  grand  simplicity, 
its  far-reaching  relations,  and  its  searching  ap- 
plication. In  this  sense  he  was  a  great  doc- 
trinal preacher,  often  preaching  sermons  that 
left  in  the  mind  of  every  intelligent  and  recep- 
tive hearer  a  permanent  deposit  of  religious 
knowledge  and  inspiration.  Particular  dis- 
courses delivered  by  him  here  and  there  are 
remembered  with  special  delight  by  those  who 
heard  them.  One  preached  before  the  Holston 
Conference  while  it  was  in  session  at  Knox- 
ville  is  mentioned  by  those  who  heard  it  as 
having  been  sublime  in  its  sweep  of  thought 
and  overwhelming  in  power.  Every  great 
preacher,  according  to  the  popular  judgment, 
preaches  "the  greatest  sermon  of  his  life'' 
many  times.  Such  men  are  carried  beyond 
themselves  by  conditions  that  conspire  to  fill 
all  the  channels  of  thought,  imagination,  and 


A  Notable  Sehmon.  243 

emotion,  and  at  length  the  full  tide  of  inspired . 
oratory  overflows  its  banks  and  sweeps  all  be- 
fore it.  "  In  1859  or  I860,' '  says  the  Eev.  John 
F.  Hughes,  of  the  Tennessee  Conference,  "I 
heard  Dr.  Summers  preach  in  Columbia,  Tenn., 
a  sermon  on  the  ofl&ces  and  work  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  that  I  shall  never  forget.  He  went  into 
the  pulpit  baptized  with  the  Spirit.  His  prayer 
gave  evidence  of  the  fact  that  God  was  with 
his  servant.  He  was  full  of  the  great  theme, 
and  as  he  proceeded  with  the  discourse  his 
own  soul  took  fire,  and  the  immense  congrega- 
tion kindled  with  him.  There  was  in  the  con- 
gregation an  old  brother  from  the  country  who, 
though  possessed  of  large  wealth,  was  a  man 
of  great  humility  and  deep  consecration.  Hav- 
ing taken  in  the  grand  argument  and  caught 
the  glowing  spirit  of  the  preacher,  his  soul 
swelled  within  him  with  irrepressible  feeling 
until  at  last  he  bowed  his  head  in  holy  joy  and 
shouted  the  praise  of  God.  The  whole  congre- 
gation was  stirred  by  that  wonderful  sermon, 
and  many  were  melted  to  tears."  While  preach- 
ing on  such  themes  as  this  there  often  came 


244  Be.  Si'MMEiis. 


upon  him  in  a  remarkable  degree  that  some- 
thing which  is  more  than  knowledge,  more  than 
logic,  more  than  rhetoric,  more  than  voice  or 
gesture — that  afflatus  from  above,  that  inde- 
scribable, indefinable  element  of  pulpit  power 
that  gives  a  new  intonation  to  the  voice,  a 
strange  radiance  to  the  countenance,  and  an 
outgoing  of  new  power  that  is  seen  and  felt  in 
every  organ  of  expression — the  baptism  of  the 
Holy  Spirit. 

The  pleasant  sketch  of  Dr.  McNeilly  told  us 
how  Dr.  Summers  was  regarded  as  a  preacher 
in  Nashville  outside  of  his  own  Church.  Fa- 
miliar as  were  the  Methodists  of  the  city  with 
his  presence  in  the  pulpit  for  so  many  years, 
he  held  his  ground  with  them  to  the  last.  The 
sermonic  reservoir  from  which  he  drew  was  fed 
from  too  many  springs  to  be  exhausted  by  the 
frequency  of  his  preaching.  His  religious 
character  was  too  positive  to  allow  of  any  dim- 
inution of  personal  Christian  influence  because 
of  this  familiarity.  The  Nashville  Methodists 
had  the  advantage  of  the  pulpit  ministrations 
of  many  of  the  first  preachers  in  the  Conuec- 


Nashville  Preachers.  245 

tion.  Among  the  preachers  of  the  Tennessee 
Conference  was  Dr.  J.  B.  McFerrin,  whose 
perennial  freshness  and  extraordinary  power 
haye  been  the  marvel  of  two  generations;  Dr. 
A.  L.  P.  Green,  lucid,  persuasive,  massive, 
grand,  instructing  and  convincing  the  old  and 
charming  the  young;  Dr.  John  W.  Hanner, 
whose  first  preaching  when  he  was  yet  a  youth 
charmed  all  classes  of  hearers,  whose  pulpit 
oratory  ripened  into  a  unique  and  almost 
matchless  excellence,  and  the  music  of  whose 
voice  will  be  echoing  among  the  Cumberland 
hills  long  after  he  shall  be  sleeping  among 
them;  Dr.  Joseph  B.  West,  the  march  of 
whose  smooth  and  majestic  periods  in  his 
best  sermons  was  like  that  of  a  victorious 
army;  Dr.  R.  A.  Young,  a  sure  shot,  having 
a  distinct  aim  and  hitting  every  time;  Dr. 
D.  C.  Kelley,  a  live  man,  vital  all  over  and  all 
through,  vip  with  his  times  and  a  little  ahead 
now  and  then;  Dr.  R.  K.  Brown,  with  masterly 
skill  searching  the  conscience  and  melting  the 
heart;  Dr.  J.  D.  Barbee,  moving  across  the 
field  of  pulpit  discussion  like  a  McCormick 


246  Dr.  Summers. 


reaper,  cutting  a  wide  swath  and  cutting  it  clear 
and  clean;  Dr.  W.  M.  Leftwich,  many-sided, 
brilliant,  and  strong;  Dr.  W.  D.  F.  Sawrie,  who 
has  kindled  and  fed  many  a  blaze  of  spiritual 
illumination;  Dr.  J.  M.  Wright,  Erasmus-like 
in  love  of  learning,  a  scholar  and  a  preacher  of 
great  strength  and  rare  culture;  John  F. 
Hughes,  whose  spiritual  childi'en  lovingly 
greet  his  gray  hairs  in  all  parts  of  Middle 
Tennessee  and  North  Alabama;  Fountain  E. 
Pitts,  whose  eloquence  stirred  great  assem- 
blies with  irresistible  power,  still  lingering 
and  preaching  in  and  around  Nashville,  like 
the  expiring  flashes  of  a  storm-cloud  whose 
thunder  and  flame  had  filled  the  heavens;  T.  L. 
Moody,  J.  Wiley  Hill,  J.  P.  McFerrin,  and  oth- 
er younger  men  of  that  body — besides  tlie  resi- 
dent Bishop,  Connectional  officers,  and  clerical 
members  of  the  Vanderbilt  Faculty.  Among 
such  men,  most  of  whom  came  and  went  under 
the  operation  of  the  itinerant  law  of  rotation. 
Dr.  Summers  for  twenty  years  maintained  his 
position  as  a  master  in  the  pulpit  and  a  leader 
in  Christian  thought. 


Summary  Estimate.  247 

Had  Dr.  Summers  been  less  eminent  in  oth- 
er departments  of  Christian  service,  perhaps 
he  would  have  ranked  higher  with  his  contem- 
poraries as  a  preacher.  Mankind  do  not  like 
to  place  many  crowns  on  the  head  of  one  man 
while  living.  The  great  orators  are  not  often 
counted  among  the  great  writers.  A  man's 
fame  may  be  obscured  at  one  point  by  its  su- 
perior effulgence  at  another. 

Dr.  Summers  never  allowed  the  pressure  of 
other  labors  put  upon  him  by  the  Church  to 
obliterate  or  diminish  the  conviction  that 
preaching  was  his  vocation.  And  from  what 
we  know  of  the  quality  and  extent  of  his  pul- 
pit labors,  we  may  anticipate  for  him  an  abun- 
dant reward  when  his  Lord  shall  reckon  with 
him  for  the  use  made  by  him  of  the  talents 
intrusted  to  him  as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel 
of  the  grace  of  God. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

PERSONAL.  AND  SLIGHTLY  SUBJECTIVE. 

MY  first  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Summers 
was  at  the  General  Conference  in  New 
Orleans,  April,  1866.  I  did  not  like  him  at  first 
sight;  but  few  persons  did.  The  loud  voice, 
the  overbearing  manner,  the  superabundant 
self-assertion  generally,  repelled  me.  I  could 
not  help  admiring  the  promptness,  vigor,  and 
accuracy  with  which  he  discharged  the  duties 
of  Secretary — always  ready,  always  full  of  re- 
pressed energy,  and  nearly  always  precisely 
right  on  all  disputed  questions  in  which  he 
took  any  interest.  I  was  a  member  of  the 
Committee  on  the  Centenary  of  American 
Methodism,  of  which  he  was  chairman.  "When 
we  met  I  was  amused  and  annoyed  by  his  con- 
duci  Turning  to  each  one  of  us  in  turn,  he 
demanded  in  his  imperative  way: 

"What  do  you  know  about  this  matter?" 
The  other  members  of  the  committee,  like 
myself,  made  such  answers  as  came  to  hand — 

248" 


Edward  H.  Myers.  249 

• ° 9 

one  timidly  suggesting  a  fact  in  the  shape  of 
an  inquiry,  another  said  he  was  going  to  look 
up  the  points  when  he  got  to  his  room,  and  one 
or  two  of  us  f  jaukly  confessed  that  we  were  not 
well  informed  on  the  subject  before  us. 

"Is  that  all  you  know  about  it?"  thundered 
Summers  to  the  committee,  some  of  whom 
smiled,  while  others  looked  resentful.  He  then 
proceeded  to  state  the  facts  with  regard  to  the 
introduction  of  Methodism  into  the  United 
States  so  clearly  and  fully,  with  such  absolute 
precision  as  to  names  and  dates,  as  to  leave 
nothing  farther  to  be  said  or  done,  except  to 
move  that  he,  as  chairman,  embody  them  in  a 
report  for  us  to  sign.  That  committee  did  not 
meet  again.  The  report  was  made  to  the  Con- 
ference, and  accepted  by  it  as  it  was  by  the 
committee.  Nobody  thought  of  entering  the 
lists  against  him  in  a  matter  of  that  sort.  He 
was  almanac,  dictionary,  and  encyclopedia. 

His  assistants  in  the  work  of  Secretary  claim 
a  word.  One  was  Edward  H.  Myers,  a  man 
whose  exterior  belied  his  real  nature  in  a  re- 
markable degree.     In  repose  his  face  was  cold 


250  Dr.  Summers. 


and  haughty  in  expression,  and  wore  a  sort  of 
sneer  that  gave  a  stranger  the  impression  that 
he  felt  for  him  a  special  contempt.  And  yet 
there  was  no  kindlier,  nobler  he^rt  than  that 
which  beat  in  his  bosom.  When  you  came  to 
know  him  the  very  hauteur  of  his  carriage  and 
sneer  on  his  features  were  lost  sight  of.  The 
great,  loving  nature  drew  you  to  him  and  held 
you  with  hooks  of  steel,  and  the  brilliant  dark 
eyes  magnetized  you  with  their  softened  inten- 
sity of  expression.  In  the  pulpit,  when  the 
afflatus  of  the  Holy  Spirit  fell  on  him,  as  it  did 
at  times,  his  power  and  pathos  swept  all  before 
him.  In  revival  scenes — such  as  I  remember 
in  the  old  days  when  I  knew  him  at  Macon,  in 
Georgia — mighty  tides  of  religious  joy  would 
flood  his  soul,  his  face  would  become  luminous 
with  the  reflection  of  the  inner  light,  its  whole 
expression  changed,  and  the  deep  joy  of  his 
heart  vented  itself  in  the  holy  laughter  and  ir- 
repressible  shouts  that  so  strangely  thrilled  all 
that  were  in  the  house  of  God.  Hallowed 
scones,  blessed  memories!  never  to  be  forgot- 
ten until  the  scattered  actors  meet  again  by  the 


James  A.  Duncan.  251 

crystal  wave  on  the  golden  shore.  The  death 
of  Myers  was  a  fitting,  one  for  such  a  man,  and 
gave  him  the  martyr's  crown.  He  died  of 
yellow  fever  in  Savannah,  Georgia,  in  1876, 
whither  he  had  hastened  from  the  North  on 
the  first  appearance  of  the  pestilence,  rightly 
thinking  that  at  such  a  time  the  place  of  a 
pastor  is  with  his  people.  His  name  is  linked 
to  those  of  Dibrell  and  Wills  and  Starr  and 
Steel  and  Slater  and  Wilkinson,  the  sainted 
heroes  of  Southern  Methodism  who  were  faith- 
ful unto  death,  dying  at  their  posts  for  the  love 
of  J-esus  and  of  humanity. 

James  A.  Duncan — "Jimmy  Duncan,"  the 
old  men  of  the  Virginia  Conference  fondly 
called  him — was  a  contrast  to  Myers  in  that 
he  captivated  you  at  once.  Nobody  could  re- 
sist him.  He  was  the  favorite  of  the  old,  the 
idol  of  the  young,  the  prince  of  the  pulpit,  the 
soul  of  the  social  circle,  admired  and  listened 
to  with  delight  by  the  statesmen  and  warriors 
whose  names  were  filling  the  world,  loved  by 
little  children — simply  great,  and  grand  in  his 
unpretentious  goodness,  he  was  the  petted  but 


262  Db.  Summers. 


unspoiled  child  of  the  Church.  At  New  Or- 
leans, in  1866,  he  was. in  the  flower  of  his 
genius  and  at  the  zenith  of  his  popularity.  A 
glance  at  him  was  enough  to  show  that  he  was 
born  for  leadership.  The  strong,  well-knit 
frame,  the  manly,  modest  bearing,  the  noble 
head  with  its  covering  of  rich  auburn  hair,  the 
clear  blue  eye  that  reflected  the  varying  emo- 
tions expressed  by  the  lips,  the  orator's  mouth, 
the  indefinable  grace  and  dignity  of  his  man- 
ner in  the  pulpit  and  everywhere — all  marked 
him  as  a  man  among  men.  It  was  said  that 
the  sermon  preached  by  him  in  Carondelet 
Street  Church  during  the  Conference  was  not 
one  of  his  best,  but  it  was  clear-cut  as  a  cameo, 
perfect  in  structure,  and  just  what  the  occasion 
demanded.  The  text  was,  "He  endured  as 
seeing  him  who  is  invisible."  (Hebrews  xi. 
27.)  He  showed  what  it  was  that  gave  digni- 
ty, unity,  and  power  to  the  career  of  Moses, 
applied  the  lesson,  and  quit  in  a  half  hour, 
leaving  his  hearers  feeling  as  if  they  had  list- 
ened to  the  sweetest  music,  and  wishing  for 
more.    This  is  not  the  place  to  tell  how  the 


Twelve  Years  Lateb.  253 

scheme  to  get  him  to  the  Pacific  Coast  failed 
of  success;  how  by  one  vote  he  failed  to  be 
called  to  the  bishopric;  how  he  wrought  for 
Christian  education  and  for  the  conversion 
of  sinners;  and  how  the  great  career  was 
suddenly  cut  short  by  death,  and  amid  the 
tears  of  the  whole  Church  he  was  laid  in  the 
grave.  Had  he  lived  longer,  he  would  have 
claimed  a  larger  space  in  the  written  history  of 
the  Church;  but  there  is  more  of  pathos  in  the 
broken  column  than  in  the  finished  shaft  of 
monumental  marble. 

At  the  General  Conference  at  Atlanta,  May, 
1878,  I  met  Dr.  Summers  again.  As  usual,  he 
was  Secretary.  During  the  twelve  years  he. 
had  changed  but  little.  A  slight  decline  was 
manifest  in  the  aggressiveness  of  his  individu- 
ality and  in  the  vigor  of  his  voice  and  step. 
But  he  was  the  same  unfailing  repository  of 
facts  and  dates,  and  now  and  then  his  sonorous 
speech  was  heard  in  peremptory  challenge  of 
a  mistake  made  by  somebody  or  in  dogmat- 
ic assertion  concerning  some  contested  point. 
A  little  episode  indicated  the  spirit  that  was 


254  Dh.  Sum  me  us. 


in  him.  A  gifted,  eloquent  member  of  the 
body — a  man  of  generous  and  chivalric  nature, 
but  at  times  impulsive  and  rash  in  speech — 
flung  at  him  a  satire  that  struck  him  in  a  ten- 
der place.  It  evidently  stung  him.  As  soon 
as  the  member  sat  down  he  rose  to  his  feet  and 
replied  to  his  remarks,  confining  himself  to 
the  point  in  issue.  Then,  pausing  a  moment, 
and  looking  at  his  assailant  with  calm  benig- 
nity of  manner,  he  said  gently : 

"As  to  the  unkind  personal  remark  of  my 
brother,  I  have  no  reply  to  make." 

He  sat  down  and  resumed  his  writing,  while 
whispers  went  round  the  assembly,  "  That  was 
well  done,"  "Good  for  Summers,"  and  such 
like  expressions.  The  soft  answer  had  con- 
quered. That  was  characteristic  of  the  man. 
His  bark  was  worse  than  his  bite  —  indeed, 
there  was  no  bite  in  his  nature.  He  was  inca- 
pable of  malice  or  revenge,  though  he  had  his 
likes  and  antipathies  with-  the  rest  of  us. 

At  this  Conference  I  was  elected  his  succes- 
sor as  editor  of  the  General  Conference  organ, 
the  Nashville  Christian  Advocate.     Ho  was  one 


The  Man  as  He  Was.  255 

of  the  first  to  approach  me  with  congratula- 
tions, though  it  was  not  without  a  pang  that 
he  gave  up  to  another  a  work  he  had  so  long 
been  doing,  and  which  he  loved. 

"  Go  back  to  California  and  get  your  family," 
he  said  in  his  hearty  way;  "I  will  take  care  of 
the  paper  until  you  get  to  your  post."  It  was 
a  timely  and  welcome  word,  and  was  the  be- 
ginning of  a  real  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Sum- 
mers. He  edited  the  paper  with  unremitting 
fidelity  during  the  weeks  that  I  was  away,  with- 
out fee  or  reward  except  the  pleasure  of  doing 
a  brother  and  his  Church  a  service  in  time  of 
need.  I  was  his  junior  and  successor.  He 
welcomed  me  cordially  on  my  return  from  Cal- 
ifornia and  entrance  upon  my  editorial  labors. 
I  soon  found  that  I  was  thrown  with  a  man  of 
singularly  lofty  and  unselfish  nature.  The  in- 
terest he  took  in  me  was  not  curious  or  crit- 
ical, but  fraternal  in  its  character.  He  was  in 
my  office  one  day  a-  few  weeks  after  I  had  be- 
gun my  work,  and  after  some  kind  words  con- 
cerning the  Christian  Advocate  under  my  man- 
agement, he  said  in  his  bluff  way : 


256  Ds.  Summers. 


"  Did  you  know,  sir,  that  you  were  my  man  ? 
If  there  was  to  be  a  change  in  the  editorship, 
you  were  the  man  I  wanted,  and  I  voted  for 
you." 

"Well,  then,"  said  I,  "as  you  helped  to  put 
me  in  my  difficult  position,  you  must  stand  by 
me  and  help  me." 

"Stand  by  you!  Yes,  be  sure  I  will;  and 
I  '11  scold  you  and  I  '11  whip  you  if  you  go 
wrong,  young  man!"  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone 
that  made  me  feel  that  there  was  a  wise  head, 
a  warm  heart,  and  a  strong  arm  at  hand  for 
counsel,  sympathy,  and  support.  Never  once 
did  he  fail  me  during  the  four  years  of  inti- 
mate association.  He  was  always  ready  at  a 
moment's  notice  to  lay  aside  his  task  to  help 
me  in  mine.  Day  or  night  he  was  Avilling  to 
take  part  of  a  brother's  burden,  however  heavy 
might  be  his  own.  Absolute  unselfishness  was 
the  law  of  his  life,  and  it  expressed  itself  most 
beautifully  at  all  times.  I  found  myself  draw- 
ing nearer  and  nearer  to  this  man  who  followed 
so  closely  in  the  steps  of  his  Master  who  came 
not  to  be  ministered  unto  but  to  minister  to 


A  Personal  Card.  257 

others.  The  sound  of  his  step  on  the  stah*- 
way  and  of  his  voice  became  pleasant  to  me, 
and  I  often  thanked  God  in  my  heart  for  plac- 
ing me  in  association  with  a  disciple  so  like 
his  Lord. 

His  generous  feeling  toward  his  successor 
just  at  this  time,  and  his  zeal  for  the  interest 
of  the  Church  as  involved  in  the  prosperity  of 
its  Connectional  organ,  found  expression  in 
this  card,  which  he  published  in  the  Christian 
Advocate  at  the  date  indicated: 

My  Dear  Succe<sor:  I  like  your  Salutatory.  It  has  the 
right  ring.  It  reminds  me  that  I  made  no  formal  valedic- 
tory. I  wrote  my  virtual  valedictory  before  I  went  to  the 
General  Conference,  and  repeated  it  when  I  announced 
your  election.  Then  I  was  tapering  off  for  a  month  or  two, 
and  so  was  spared  the  difficult  task  of  writing  a  formal  fare- 
well. Allow  me  to  say  to  my  old  readers  that  I  do  not 
part  with  them  without  peculiar  feelings,  which  I  will  not 
attempt  to  describe.  If  I  have  offended  any,  I  have  not 
done  so  consciously ;  but  I  beg  their  pardon,  which  they 
will  generously  grant.  If  any  have  done  me  wrong  during 
my  editorial  course,  they  perhaps  will  not  forgive  vie — it  is 
easy  for  me  to  forgive  them.  I  cannot  reply  to  all  the  kind 
letters  which  I  receive.     I  am  very  thankful. 

You  are  mv  chosen  successor.     I  doubt  not  vou  will  buc- 

17 


258  Dh.  ISuMMKiiS. 


<ced.  Your  first  issue  gives  earnest  of  that.  I  know  not 
that  I  can  help  you,  but  it  is  in  my  heart  to  do  so.  The 
I>ord  grant  you  great  success!  T.  O.  Summers. 

At  times  I  got  more  than  I  wanted  from  him. 
If,  on  going  into  his  room,  which  adjoined  my 
ow^u,  to  get  help  in  the  solution  of  some  diffi- 
cult or  obscure  question,  the  subject  happened 
to  be  one  of  special  interest  to  him,  down  he 
would  throw  pen  or  pencil  or  paper  and  rising 
to  his  feet  he  would  pour  forth  a  flood  of  learn- 
ing that  seemed  to  be  inexhaustible.  I  was 
constantly  struck  with  fresh  astonishment  at 
the  copiousness  of  his  reading,  the  strength  of 
his  memory,  and  the  soundness  of  his  judg- 
ment. But  when  I  got  a  treatise  instead  of  an 
answer  to  a  simple  question  it  was  more  than 
I  bargained  for,  and  I  came  to  be  careful  how  I 
asked  questions  of  him  when  I  was  in  a  hurry. 
It  was  like  opening  the  gates  of  a  dike  when 
the  sea  was  at  high  tide.  It  was  always  high 
tide  with  Dr.  Summers  on  some  questions  of 
exegetics,  doctrine,  polity,  and  history.  He 
was  not  unconscious  of  the  superiority  of  his 
acquisitions  over  those  of  other  men.      His 


A  BcTJXiNG  Light.  259 

harmless  egotism  in  this  particular  offended 
nobody,  only  giving  a  zest  to  his  enjoyment  in 
imparting  and  that  of  his  hearers  in  receiving 
the  vast  and  varied  information  he  possessed. 
He  seemed  to  feel  that  it  was  a  talent  intrust- 
ed to  him  by  the  Master  to  be  put  at  usury  for 
which  he  must  give  account.  It  was  a  feature 
of  the  unselfishness  which  was  the  most  con- 
spicuous trait  in  his  character.  He  loved 
books,  but  he  did  not  hoard  them.  He  thirst- 
ed for  knowledge,  but  not  for  his  own  or  its 
own  sake,  but  for  use.  He  was  not  a  book- 
worm in  the  usual  sense  of  the  word;  he  was 
a  burning  lamp  giving  forth  the  light  fed  by 
the  oil  beaten  in  the  mental  toils  of  his  study 
and  the  fervent  prayers  of  his  closet.  He 
loaned  his  books  to  such  as  he  believed  would 
make  good  use  of  them,  and  all  his  wealth  of 
learning  was  at  the  service  of  whosoever  made 
a  draft  upon  him. 

He  was  indeed  the  servant  of  all.  If  a  pul- 
pit in  a  Methodist,  Presbyterian,  or  Baptist 
church  was  vacant,  he  would  fill  it  or  have  it 
filled;  if  anybody  in  his  circle  was  sick,  he  was 


260  Dr.  Summers. 


soon  at  the  bedside;  if  anybody  died,  he  was 
at  the  funeral  to  weep  with  the  mourners,  to 
speak  a  word  of  comfort,  or  to  oflfer  a  prayer; 
if  anybody  went  wrong  or  got  into  trouble,  he 
was  ready  to  give  counsel  or  help.  He  was 
loytd  to  friendsliip.  A  mutual  friend  in  close 
relation  to  us  both  went  wrong  in  a  matter  of 
much  delicacy  and  hard  to  be  managed.  I  took 
the  matter  to  Dr.  Summers  in  confidence.  Aft- 
er the  whole  transaction  was  laid  before  him, 
with  a  pained  expression  of  countenance  he 
said: 

"  Our  brother  has  done  wrong  in  this  matter, 
and  it  pains  me  to  know  it;  but  he  is  a  good 
man,  and  is  not  to  be  judged  by  this  one  act. 
We  must  protect  him  and  extricate  him;  he 
will  not  abuse  our  kindness  in  thus  dealing 
with  him." 

His  advice  was  followed,  with  the  happiest 
results,  and  I  shared  with  him  the  pure  de- 
light and  blessing  of  the  peace-maker. 

By  the  grace  of  God,  he  was  an  unselfish 
man.  He  lived  for  others,  seeming  to  feel  that 
he  was  debtor  to  all  men. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AGAIN    IN   TUSCALOOSA. 

WHEN  the  civil  war  broke  out  in  1861, 
all  classes  of  the  Southern  people  were 
drawn  into  the  terrible  struggle — some  will- 
ingly with  hearty  enthusiasm,  and  others  of 
cooler  temperament  or  doubting  minds  by  the 
force  of  a  current  too  strong  to  be  resisted. 
Beardless  boys,  catching  the  spirit  of  the  time, 
went  into  the  ranks  with  gray -headed  men 
whose  aged  blood  took  fire  when  the  time  had 
come  to  fight  out  the  quarrel  bequeathed  to 
that  generation  by  their  noble  but  fallible  an- 
cestors. The  clergy  of  all  denominations  shared 
the  common  excitement,  and  took  part  in  the 
conflict.  A  bishop  dofifed  his  surplice  and 
donned  a  major-general's  uniform;  reverend 
captains,  colonels,  and  brigadiers  led  their  com- 
panies, regiments,  and  brigades  in  bdttle,  and 
preached  to  them  and  prayed  for  them  in  camp; 
and  many  young  pastors  took  their  places  in 
the  ranks  as  private  soldiers,  and  none  were 

(2:1) 


262  Dr.  Summers. 


truer  or  braver.  Many  of  these  men  would 
lead  a  charge,  being  first  in  storming  the  ene- 
my's defenses,  to  scale  the  walls  or  capture  a 
battery,  and  then  they  would  be  as  ready  to 
administer  the  consolations  of  religion  to  the 
dying,  nurse  the  sick  in  the  hospitals,  and  bury 
the  dead  with  the  solemn  rites  of  the  Church. 
Right  or  Avrong  in  the  course  they  pursued, 
history  furnishes  no  loftier  examples  of  unself- 
ish devotion  and  unflinching  heroism  than  were 
exhibited  by  these  men  who  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  the  soldiers  of  the  South  amid 
the  fires  of  that  trying  period.  The  non-com- 
batant element  was  small  indeed,  but  there 
were  some  who  could  find  no  warrant  in  the 
New  Testament  for  fighting  with  carnal  weap- 
ons, and  who  looked  upon  the  unnatural  strife 
with  horror,  and  longed  and  prayed  for  peace. 
Dr.  Summers  was  not  troubled  by  scruples 
of  this  kind.  But  his  near-sightedness  dis- 
qualified him  for  service  in  the  army;  he  could 
not  have  distinguished  a  blue-coat  from  a  gray 
one  at  any  distance,  and  he  would  have  been 
any  thing  but  helpful  in  field  or  camp. 


In  the  Pastorate  Agaix.  263 

When  Nashville  was  taken  by  the  Federal 
army  he  repaired  to  Tuscaloosa,  city  of  his 
love.  He  found  the  pastor  of  the  Methodist 
Church  there  anxious  to  go  into  the  Southern 
army  as  a  chaplain,  while  he  was  himself  in- 
clined to  assume  the  pastorate.  The  arrange- 
ment was  soon  made.  Giving  the  departing 
brother  his  benediction,  he  took  charge  of  the 
congregation  and  served  it  to  the  close  of  the 
war. 

It  was  not  long  before  his  strong  personality 
was  felt  in  all  the  circles  of  the  city.  All  class- 
es, from  the  Chancellor  of  the  State  Univer- 
sity down  to  the  humblest  poverty-stricken, 
bed-ridden  invalid  in  the  suburbs,  soon  real- 
ized that  a  man  of  uncommon  zeal  and  power 
had  come  into  their  midst.  He  was  popular 
both  in  and  out  of  the  pulpit.  His  hearty 
catholicity  won  for  him  the  cordial  good- will  of 
all  religious  denominations.  The  popular  in- 
stinct rarely  mistakes  a  man's  true  quality  in 
this  respect.  The  smirking  proselyter  is  dis- 
trusted— the  large-hearted  fellow- Christian  is 
lionored  and  loved. 


264  Dr.  Summers. 


His  preaching  was  sometimes  overladen  with 
patristic  lore  and  exegetical  exposition,  but  it 
was  instructive,  elevating,  edifying.  The  aver- 
age hearer  might  wish  at  times  that  he  had  left 
out  some  of  his  big  words  and  elaborate  exe- 
getics,  but  every  one  left  the  Church  feeling 
that  he  had  been  repaid  for  going  by  listening 
to  discourses  that  were  learned,  sound  in  doc- 
trine, and  abounding  in  vigorous  thought.  Not 
unfrequently  the  divine  afflatus  would  fall  up- 
on him  while  preaching,  and  there  would  be  a 
grandeur  in  his  conceptions  and  an  energy  of 
delivery  that  excited  the  admiration  and  thrilled 
the  hearts  of  the  people.  Had  he  been  a  little 
less  "bookish"  these  inspired  flights  would 
have  been  more  frequent.  When  a  preacher 
is  telling  what  somebody  else  has  said,  he  will 
not  rise  to  as  high  a  level  as  when  thought  and 
feeling  pour  forth  in  his  own  words,  warm  and 
gushing  from  his  own  brain  and  heart. 

Dr.  Summers  gave  special  attention  to  the 
instruction  and  Christian  nurture  of  the  young. 
He  was  never  absent  from  the  Sunday-school. 
It  was  his  regular  habit  to  examine  the  Bible 


His  Working  Methods.  265 

classes  together  after  their  respective  teachers 
had  exhausted  their  instruction,  making  run- 
ning comments  on  the  lesson.  It  was  the  opin- 
ion of  a  distinguished  layman  that  these  run- 
ning expositions  were  his  best  work.  In  this 
field  he  was  a  master — clear,  practical,  forcible. 
The  expository  style  of  preaching  was  natural 
to  him,  and  on  this  ground  he  was  always  ready 
and  strong.  He  loved  to  feed  the  lambs  of  the 
flock,  though  at  times  he  maj'^  have  put  the  food 
a  little  too  high  for  them  to  reach.  He  loved 
children — and,  after  they  got  over  their  first 
scare  at  meeting  him,  they  loved  him.  Trans- 
parent goodness  always  attracts  a  child,  wheth- 
er it  be  found  in  a  learned  doctor  of  divinity 
or  in  a  black-skinned  nurse  with  nothing  to 
elicit  regard  save  simple  truthfulness  and  kind- 
ness of  heart. 

He  was  a  diligent  student  during  this  period. 
With  the  use  of  the  university  library  and  that 
of  Chancellor  Garland— both  burned  by  the 
Northern  soldiers — he  prosecuted  his  studies 
and  labored  continuously  upon  his  Commenta- 
ries on  the  Gospels — a  work  which  remains  as 


266  Dr.  Summers. 


an  enduring  monument  of  his  sound  judgment, 
diligence,  and  evangelical  orthodoxy. 

He  attended  regularly  the  course  of  lectures 
delivered  in  the  university  upon  chemistry, 
with  which  he  seemed  much  delighted.  This 
aptness  both  for  linguistic  studies  and  for 
physics  is  rare,  and  indicative  of  a  two-storied 
brain.  His  extraordinary  memory  enabled  him 
to  seize  and  hold  ihefotimdm  of  the  chemical 
lecture-room  which  have  been  the  terror  and 
torment  of  many.  " 

Tfiese  years  in  Tuscaloosa  were  a  period  of 
mental  and  spiritual  growth  to  him.  Though 
profoundly  interested  in  the  issue  of  the  great 
conflict  that  was  going  on,  he  was  not  diverted 
by  it  from  the  work  he  had  in  hand.  The  storm 
of  battle  raged  all  around  him,  and  once  or 
twice  it  took  in  its  course  the  quiet  Alabama 
town  where  he  was  living.  When  the  dead 
heroes  that  wore  the  gi'ay  were  brought  back 
to  be  buried  at  home  he  wept  with  the  mourn- 
ers at  their  graves.  When  the  sky  darkened 
more  and  more  toward  the  end  until  the  total 
eclipse  of  utter  defeat  fell  upon  the  South,  his 


COXTRASTED,  BUT  MATCHED.  267 

heart  bled  with  the  sorrow  that  wrung  the 
hearts  of  the  great  body  of  the  Southern  peo- 
ple and  broke  the  mighty  heart  of  Lee,  their 
great  chieftain.  But  he  faithfully  pursued  his 
appointed  life-work,  and  when  the  curtain  of 
the  thrilling  drama  fell  at  Appomattox,  he  was 
ready  with  a  brave  heart  to  set  about  gathering 
up  the  broken  fragments  of  a  shattered  polit- 
ical, social,  and  religious  organism  and  look  to 
the  future  for  whatever  of  good  it  might  please 
God  to  have  in  store  for  the  South  and  for  the 
nation. 

When  at  the  close  of  the  war  he  left  Tusca- 
loosa his  departure  was  regretted  by  the  entire 
population  of  the  city.  Among  his  special 
friends  was  a  gentleman  to  whom  allusion  has 
already  been  made  in  this  chapter ^ — Dr.  L.  C. 
Garland,  then  Chancellor  in  the  University  of 
Alabama.  They  were  as  unlike  in  tempera- 
ment as  they  were  congenial  in  spirit  and  har- 
monious in  their  beliefs.  The  theologian  and 
the  scientist;  the  polemic  and  the  mathemati- 
cian; the  exegete  and  the  chemist;  the  inter- 
preter of  the  Bible  and  the  interpreter  of  nat- 


26S  Br.  Summers. 


ure ;  the  omnivorous  bibliopole  and  the  logical, 
clear-headed,  deep-thinking  physicist — it  was 
a  strongly  contrasted  and  yet  a  well-matched 
pair.  Their  friendship  was  strong  and  tender, 
and  was  unbroken  until  that  sad  morning  when 
the  venerable  Chancellor  gently  and  lovingly 
closed  the  eyes  of  his  dead  friend  and  turned 
away  with  a  heavy  heart.  God  be  thanked  for 
such  Christian  friendships!  They  brighten, 
bless,  and  ennoble  our  lives  here,  and  may  we 
not  hope  that  they  will  constitute  no  inconsid- 
erable part  of  the  felicity  that  shall  be  ours  in 
the  fuller  life  to  come? 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

INNER  GLIMPSES  OF  THE  MAN. 

AS  our  wish  is  to  give  a  true  picture  of  the 
man  and  his  work  rather  than  to  preserve 
strict  chronological  unity  in  these  chapters, 
at  this  point  we  give  extracts  from  the  diary  of 
Dr.  Summers,  beginning  with  1872  and  ending 
Sunday,  April  23, 1882 — very  near  the  end  of  all. 
It  will  be  seen  that  in  the  first  entry  he  alludes 
to  the  loss  of  his  "journal"  which  he  had  kept 
for  forty  years  with  other  valuable  and  curious 
manuscripts.  If  we  had  had  that  "journal" 
before  us,  the  character  of  this  work  would  have 
been  modified— to  what  extent  will  never  be 
known.  The  pathos  of  the  opening  and  clos- 
ing parts  of  it  will  not  escape  the  reader. 
Well  has  it  been  said  that  "  all  lives  are  trage- 
dies." This  buoyant,  sunny-souled  man,  with 
his  strong  faith  and  marvelous  flow  of  animal 
spirits,  was  no  exception.  The  glimpses  we 
here  get  of  him  show  that  he  was  one  of  us — 
a  toiling,  struggling,  sorrowing  man — and  yet 

(269) 


270  Dh.  SUMMEJiS. 


presenting  in  a  fragmentary  way  the  picture 
of  a  man  of  God  who  bore  his  burden  and 
fought  his  battle  like  a  saint  and  a  true  soldier 
of  Jesus  Christ.  Selections  have  been  made 
from  this  diary  with  a  view  to  exhibit  his  life 
as  it  was.  It  is  likely  that  some  readers  will 
think  we  have  given  too  much  of  it,  while  oth- 
ers may  wish  we  had  given  more. 


Nashville,  February  15, 1872.— On  going  to  the  Publisli- 
ing  House  this  morning  I  found  my  office,  library,  papers, 
etc.,  in  ashes.  About  midnight  n  fire  broke  out  in  the  bind- 
ery, and  burned  it,  nly  office,  the  composition  and  stereo- 
type rooms.  My  journal  whicli  I  had  kept  for  forty  years, 
manuscript  works  on  Retribution,  Ilymnology,  the  Church, 
Notes  on  Scripture,  sermons,  commonplace-books,  auto- 
graph letters  of  the  Wesleys,  Coke,  Asbury,  Watson,  and 
otiier  distinguished  men,  and  ray  library  worth  thousands  of 
dollars,  were  all  consumed.  The  Lord  woJild  not  have  per- 
mitted so  great  a  calamity  to  hap|>en  to  me,  if  he  had  not 
intended  to  overrule  it  for  good ;  so  I  submit  without  mur- 
muring. I  take  out  a  new  lease  of  life,  and  b^in  the  world 
anew;  yet  I  feci  the  stroke  so  keenly. 

Sunday,  February  25.  —  I  preached  this  morning  at 
North  Edgefield,  on  Matthew  vi.  9-13;  and  at  night  in 
Tulip  Street,  on  Revelation  xxii.  8,  9. 


The  Diary.  271 

Sunday,  March  3. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Clai- 
borne's Chapel,  on  1  Chronicles  iv.  9,  10;  and  at  night  in 
McKendree,  on  Genesis  vi.  9. 

Sunday,  March  10. — I  preached  at  half  past  nine  at  the 
Penitentiary,  on  Micah  vi.  8  [this  seems  to  have  been  his 
favorite  text] ;  then  went  to  the  First  Presbyterian  Church 
and  heard  Dr.  Vandyke,  who  has  been  called  to  the  pastor- 
ate of  that  congregation.  I  offered  the  prayer  before  ser- 
mon, and  united  afterward  in  the  Lord's  Supper.  -  The  ser- 
mon was  good,  though  it  had  a  passage  in  it  affirming  the 
inamissibility  of  grace. 

-  Wednesday,  April  17. — I  am  better,  but  not  well.     I 
lectured  to-night  in  Tulip  Street,  on  Luke  xvii.  7-10. 

Sunday,  April  21. — I  preached  at  Lebanon  this  morn- 
ing, on  Genesis  vi.  9;  and  at  night,  on  Psalm  cxxx.  4.  En- 
tertained pleasantly  at  Jordan  Stokes's. 

Wednesday,  April  24. — Last  week  I  visited  and  prayed 
with  Mrs.  Slayback,  who  thouglit  she  was  about  to  enter 
paradise.  She  is  better  in  health,  but  her  son-in-law  Hugh 
W.  Frizzell  died  on  Monday,  and  I  assisted  at  his  funeral 
to-day.  I  visited  him  just  before  his  death,  and  found  him 
prepared,  though  he  had  postponed  his  connection  with  the 
Church  till  the  last.  He  was  an  estimable  man — one  who 
feared  God — clerk  of  the  criminal  court.  His  funeral  at 
McKendree  Church  was  numerously  attended. 

Wednesday,  May  8. — This  day  we  laid  the  corner-stone 
of  the  new  Publishing  House.  All  the  Bishops  except 
Bishop  Early — who  was  not  present  on  account  of  age  and 


272  Dr.  Summers. 


infirmities — took  part  in  the  imposing  ceremony.  Bishops 
Pierce  and  Wightman  made  good  speeches.  This  is  a  busy 
week.  The  meeting  of  the  Bishops,  Board  of  Missions,  etc., 
takv*  up  all  my  time.  Every  thing  goes  off  pleasantly. 
Bishop  Wightman,  Dr.  Garland,  and  Dr.  Sargent  were  our 
guests    "We  have  much  company. 

Sunday,  May  12. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Thomp- 
son's Chapel,  on  1  Chronicles  iv.  9, 10,  and  si)ent  two  nights 
pleasantly  with  Brothers  Ewing  and  Smith. 

Sunday,  June  16. — Henry  Hanesworth,  a  local  preacher 
from  Newbury  Circuit,  Berkshire,  England,  is  staying  with 
me.  He  preached  two  good  sermons  in  Tulip  Street  ChiinJh 
to-day.  I  led  a  class  in  the  afternoon,  and  visited  two  sick 
persons. 

Sunday,  June  23. — I  came  to  Tuscaloosa,  accompanied 
by  my  wife,  Friday  night.  We  are  kindly  entertained  at 
Captain  Kennedy'.s.  I  have  visited  the  grave  of  my  saint- 
ed Virginia  Hannah.  It  is  as  when  I  left  it.  We  came 
through  a  new  town  on  the  Alabama  and  Chattanooga  Rail- 
road, near  Elyton,  called  Birmingham,  where  we  fell  in 
with  many  of  our  friends  who  were  there  celebrating  the 
anniversary  of  the  town,  it  being  only  a  year  old !  It  rained 
this  morning,  but  I  preached  the  Commencement  Sermon 
of  the  Tuscaloosa  Female  College  at  nine  a.m.,  in  the  Meth- 
odist Church,  on  Psalm  cxliv.  12.  Dr.  Hamilton  and  Dr. 
Stillman,  Presbyterians,  took  part  in  the  service.  We  then 
heard  the  Commencement  Sermon  for  the  State  University, 
at  the  Presbyterian  Church,  by  a  Baptist  preacher.    There 


The  Diary.  273 

was  to  have  been  one  preadied  at  five  p.m.,  for  the  Baptist 
Female  College,  but  the  rain  prevented. 

Thursday,  June  27. — I  have  been  much  taken  up  witli 
Commencement  exercises  at  the  Female  College  and  the 
University — up  late  at  night.  On  Tuesday  afternoon,  Dr. 
Hamilton  and  I  buried  our  old  friend  Mrs.  Alfred  Battle, 
who  died  on  Sunday  night.  How  remarkable  that  her  two 
old  and  attached  pastoi*s  sliould  be  present  at  her  obse- 
quies! I  have  known  her  since  1843.  She  was  a  good 
woman.  We  came  on  the  train  to  Akron,  within  eighteen 
miles  of  Greensboro,  where  we  met  with  a  break — broke 
down  in  the  water — did  not  get  to  Greensboro  till  ten  p.m. 
We  are  kindly  entertained  at  Judge  Coleman's. 

Sunday,  August  4. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Elm 
Street,  on  1  Corinthians  xi.  28,  and  administered  the  Lord's 
Supper  to  a  large  number  of  communicants.  In  the  after- 
noon I  buried  a  child  in  South  Nashville. 

Monday,  August  5. — I  buried  a  child  from  Edgefield  in 
the  City  Cemetery. 

Wednesday,  September  4. — I  buried  Brother  Barbee's 
infant  this  morning.     Brother  Brown  assisted. 

Friday,  October  11. — I  have  suffered  out  my  three-score 
years.  I  celebrated  my  sixtieth  birthday  to-day.  Brothers 
McFerrin,  Haygood,  R.  K.  Brown,  and  Barbee  dined  with 
us.  I  thank  the  Lord  for  a  personal  existence,  for  redemp- 
tion which  secures  it  to  me,  and  for  the  hope  of  living  for 
ever! 

Sunday,  November  24. — Mrs.  Summers  and  I  reached 
18 


274  T)r.  Summers. 


Tuscaloosa  on  Thirrsday.  We  are  kindly  entertained  by 
our  old  friend  Dr.  Guild.  By  exposure  I  took  cold  with 
ophthalmic  inflammation,  and  had  to  go  to  bed  under  med- 
ical treatment.  On  Friday  I  appeared  in  the  church  where 
the  North  Alabama  Conference  is  holding  its  session.  Bish- 
op Doggett  presides.  I  made  an  address  at  the  Sunday- 
school  this  morning.  Dr.  Kelley  preached  a  capital  ser- 
mon at  the  Presbyterian  Church,  on  the  "Prayer  Test"  of 
Drs.  Thompson  and  Tyndall.  In  the  afternoon  I  preached 
at  the  Insane  Hospital,  on  Hebrews  xii.  5,  6.  A  number 
of  preachers  and  other  visitors  were  present.  We  enjoy  our 
visit  to  Tuscaloosa  very  much. 

Thursday,  November  28. — We  reached  home  yesterday 
travel-worn.  Tliis  is  Thanksgiving-tlay.  I  buried  W.  T. 
Harrison,  one  of  our  printers — a  good  man.  Dr.  McFerrin 
assisted  in  the  service  at  the  church,  Tulip  Street.  Nearly 
all  the  printers  in  town  were  present. 

Sunday,  December  15. — My  sou  was  ordained  elder  to- 
day. I  assisted  in  laying  on  hands,  and  read  the  Gospel; 
Dr.  Mitchell  the  Epistle.  He,  Eev.  Cotton  and  others  laid 
on  hands.  I  preached  the  sermon,  on  John  xiv.  15-17.  I 
felt  very  solemn.     May  God  bless  the  lad! 

Wednesday,  January  1,  1873. — I  have  been  confined  to 
my  room,  and  largely  to  my  bed,  all  the  holidays.  By  my 
exposure  I  contracted  catarrhal  fever,  bronchitis,  and  incip- 
ient pneumonia.  Dr.  Jamison  doctored  me  hcroicaliy  with 
calomel,  Dover's  powders,  quinine,  cough  sirup,  etc,  and, 
thank  God,  I  am  better.     I  consecrate  this  new  year  most 


The  Diary.  275 

devoutly  to  God.  The  Lord  bless  me  and  mine  with  spe- 
cial favor  this  year!     The  Lord  make  us  happy  and  useful! 

Sunday,  January  12. — This  morning  I  went  to  the  Edge- 
field Presbyterian  Cliurch,  heard  a  good  sermon  by  the  pas- 
tor, Mr.  McNeilly,  and  communed  with  the  Church. 

Wednesday,  January  15. — I  went  to  the  Legislature  to 
open  the  Senate  with  prayer,  but  Dr.  India  Kalisch,  a 
Jewish  rabbi,  was  there  for  that  purpose,  and  I  listened  to 
liim.  He  had  prepared  his  prayer,  which  was  thoroughly 
Jewish,  but  liberal.  At  twelve,  Dr.  Hoyt  (Presbyterian) 
and  I  offered  prayers  at  the  inauguration  of  Governor 
Brown.  We  did  so  when  he  was  inaugurated  before.  He 
made  a  very  good  inauguration  speech.  The  affair  went 
off  well. 

Sunday,  January  2G. — Snow  and  my  ailments  kept  me 
at  home  to-day.  I  have  been  reading  to  profit,  I  hope, 
Herbert's  "Priest  to  the  Temple"  and  other  portions  of  his 
works.  I  am  cultivating  a  devotional  spirit.  This  I  desire 
for  myself  and  family  above  all  things.  Lord,  send  us  the 
Comforter  in  all  his  quickening,  consoling,  and  sanctifying 
power! 

Sunday,  March  16. — I  was  to  have  preached  last  Sunday 
at  Claiborne's,  and  to-day  at  Lebanon;  but  sickness  confines 
rae  to  my  room.  I  have  had  a  sharp  attack  of  bilious  fe- 
ver and  tonsilitis.  I  am  better,  but  not  well.  The  Lord's 
vrill  be  done,  in  suffering  as  well  as  in  action. 

Sunday,  May  4. — P.  A.  Peterson,  presiding  elder  of  Nor- 
folk District,  preached  a  good  sermon  this  morning  at  Tulip 


270  Dr.  SuMMEJis. 


Stniet.  I  administered  the  communion.  It  was  a  profits^ 
ble  service. 

Sunday,  May  11. — Bishop  Doggett  preached  a  good  ser- 
mon at  Tulip  Street,  on  John  i.  29;  Bishop  Marvin,  on  the 
Dishonest  Steward,  at  niglit  in  McKendree.  The  Bishops, 
Board  of  Missions,  liook  Conmiittee,  and  Itoard  of  Trust  of 
Vanderbilt  University  liave  l)een  in  session  the  past  week. 
My  house  and  office  have  been  crowded.  Much  business 
has  been  done,  I  hope  well.  Our  Mission  Board  has  taken 
a  new  departure — resolved  to  raise  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars  for  the  foreign  and  domestic  work  the 
ensuing  year.     I  fear  it  will  not  be  done. 

Sunday,  June  8. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Brentwood, 
on  Revelation  xxii.  3:  "And  his  servants  shall  serve  him." 
I  dined  and  rested  at  Brotiier  Poynter's,  a  charming  phu^c. 

Sunday,  June  15. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Trinity, 
two  miles  from  Nashville,  on  1  Thessidonians  v.  G:  "Let  us 
not  sleep  as  do  others."  A  good  many  people  in  Nashville 
have  been  dying  with  cholera  for  the  past  fortnight.  Mr. 
Royce,  a  Protestant  Episcopal  minister,  died  last  week  with 
it.  We  are  prudent  in  diet,  drink  cistern  -water,  abstain 
from  vegetables,  and  hope,  by  God's  blessing,  to  be  un- 
harmed.    We  are  not  afraid. 

Sunday,  June  29. — Many  are  dying  with  cholera.  Dr. 
Kelley  is  worn  down,  and  has  gone  to  the  springs.  I 
preached  for  him  at  McKendree  to-night,  on  Isaiah  Ixvi. 
13:  "As  one  {ish,  a  man)  whom  his  mother  comforteth,  so 
will  I  comfort  you."    Last  Sunday  I  was  on  the  fatherh(K>d, 


The  Diary.  'ill 

this  Sunday  on  what  may  he  called  the  motherhood  of  God. 
The  people  were  deeply  interested  in  the  suhject.  Bishop 
MeTyeire  closed  the  service  appropriately.  I  presume  a 
number  of  Presbyterians  were  present,  as  they  had  no  serv- 
ice in  the  First  Church,  and  we  had  a  good  congregation. 

Sunday,  July  13. — As  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hoyt,  pastor  of  the 
First  Presbyterian  Church,  Nashville,  is  sick,  and  the  com- 
munion was  to  be  administered,  I  preached  in  that  church 
this  morning,  on  Micah  vi.  8,  after  baptizing  a  lady,  and 
then  administered  the  communion.  I  of  course  followed 
the  Presbyterian  mode  of  administering  the  two  sacra- 
ments; introducing,  however,  the  essential  parts  of  our 
forms,  memoriter.  I  also  announced  the  reception  of  five 
persons  into  the  Church — curiously  enough,  three  of  them 
(ladies  of  the  name  of  Payne  from  the  country)  were  by 
certificate  from  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South! 
The  service  was  pleasant  and  profitable — all  seemed  de- 
lighted. This  agrees  with  my  catholic  feelings.  At  night 
I  preached  at  North  Edgefield,  on  Psalm  cxix.  176.  •!  was 
tired  when  I  walked  home  in  the  dark  and  mud. 

Sunday,  August  3. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Thomp- 
son's Chapel,  four  miles  from  Nashville,  after  holding  a 
class-meeting,  on  John  i.  29 — a  long,  and  I  hope  not  an  un- 
fruitful sermon.  Dined  at  Captain  Smith's,  and  preached 
at  Woodbine,  two  or  three  miles  nearer  Nashville,  on  Rev- 
elation xxii.  9. 

Sunday,  August  17. — I  pre.Tclied  this  morning  at  Nolens- 
ville,  sixteen  miles  from  Nashville,  on  Micah  vi.  8 — a  long 


278  Dr.  Summers. 


and  earnest  sermon,  though  I  was  sick  and  had  delivered 
an  address  of  about  an  liour  at  the  Sunday-school,  and  bap- 
tized the  infant  of  the  pastor.  Sterling  McAllister  Cherry, 
giving  him  liis  father's  name.  His  little  brother  is  named 
William  Capers,  He  is  a  grandson  of  the  Bishop's  half 
brother.    This  service  aflbrded  me  jieculiar  pleasure. 

Sunday,  September  28. — The  past  week  was  one  of  great 
turmoil  and  upheaval  in  the  commercial  world.  Jay 
Cooke,  Henry  Clews,  and  others  failed,  and  many  brokers 
and  bankers  and  merchants  followed  them.  What  a  cy- 
clone! There  is  a  general  suspension  of  banks.  This 
morning  I  preached  at  Smyrna,  twelve  miles  from  Nash- 
ville, on  Psalm  cxxx.  4,  and  administered  the  communion. 
Wc  had  a  good  time.     It  is  Brother  Winn's  work. 

Tuesday,  September  30. — In  company  with  Dr.  Redfonl 
I  left  this  afternoon  for  the  Louisville  Conference  at  Rus- 
sellville.  Having  to  lie  over  a  few  hours  at  Bowling  Green, 
Dr.  Wilson,  pastor,  and  President  of  Warren  College,  ex- 
torted from  me  a  sermon.     I  i)reached  on  Micah  vi.  8. 

Saturday,  October  4 — I  reached  home  yesterday,  mnch 
fatigued.  This  morning  I  was  stricken  down  by  a  dispatch 
from  Greensboro,  stating  that  Osmond  dietl  this  morning  at 
n  quarter  past  six  o'clock!  Three  letters  came  at  the  same 
time  stating  that  he  had  diphtheria,  and  was  thought  to  be 
d(<ing  well.  What  a  blow!  what  a  blow!  The  sweetest, 
■r»)st  sprightly  little  fellow  I  ever  saw !  What  a  blessed 
angel  he  makes!  How  I  long  to  l)e  with  him  and  my  own 
children  (but  heb  mine  too)  iu  jwradise!    I  telegraphed 


The  Diary.  279 

to  his  father  to  bury  liim  in  Tuscaloosa  when  he  came. 
Gracious  Father,  sanctify  to  us  all  this  terrible  stroke! 
Sustain  us  under  it! 

Sunday,  October  5. — Having  engaged  to  baptize  Brother 
Brown's  infant  in  Tulip  Street,  this  morning,  I  did  so,  nam- 
ing him  Robert  King,  the  name  of  his  father.  Dr.  Walker 
then  preached.  I  preached  at  night  in  the  Fii-st  Bajitist 
Church,  Nashville,  on  Philippians  iii.  20,  21. 

Saturday,  October  11. — I  am  sixty-one  to-day.  I  am 
alone.  Mrs.  .Summers  is  still  at  Franklin.  I  have  sad  yet 
pleasant  thoughts.  I  do  not  wish  to  retard  the  wheels  of 
time — ratlier  let  them  roll  faster.  Yet  I  thank  God  for 
giving  me  another  year.  May  my  soul  be  mellowed  for  the 
skies,  as  age  comes  on ! 

Thursday,  November  27.  —  Thanksgiving  -  day.  I 
preached  to  a  good  congregation  at  McKendree,  on  Philii> 
plans  iv.  6,  7.     I  had  liberty,  and  I  trust  good  was  done. 

Saturday,  December  6. — I  was  rather  surprised  to-day 
when  I  was  elected  (the  only  one  on  the  first  ballot)  a  del- 
egate to  the  General  Conference.  Messrs.  McCiirty,  M.  V. 
Andrews,  J.  Hamilton,  and  W.  Shepard  are  my  colleagues. 

Wednesday,  December  31. — The  last  day  of  the  year 
was  made  more  solemn  than  usual  by  the  burial  of  a  ven- 
erable matriarch,  INIrs.  M.  J.  Manier,  mother-in-law  of 
Brother  AV.  H.  Evans.  She  had  been  familiar  with  As- 
bury  and  his  associates  in  the  olden  time  in  Virginia.  I 
assisted  Drs.  Kelley  and  Hargrove  in  the  service. 

Thursday,  January  1,  1874. — I  conducted  tlie  covenant 


280  Dr.  Summers. 


service  at  the  wsitch-nieetiiig  in  McKcndree.  Brother  Ditz- 
ler,  who  was  on  a  visit  at  our  house,  preached.  Drs.  Har- 
grove and  Green  united  in  the  service.  I  dedicate  myself 
and  all  mine  afresh  to  God.  May  he  guide  me  and  mine 
this  year  by  his  unerring  counsel  I 

Sunday,  February  15. — I  preached  twice  to-day  for  the 
Baptist  Church  in  Edgefield,  in  the  morning  on  1  Peter  iv. 
16,  and  at  night  on  Revelation  xxii.  8,  9.  They  seem  to  be 
a  loving  people,  and  to  enjoy  the  word. 

Sunday,  May  3. — Our  General  Conference  opened  in 
Louisville,  May  1.  I  am  as  usual  Secretary.  My  son  is 
reporter.  I  have  also  to  edit  the  Daily  Christian  Advocate, 
BO  that  my  hands  are  full.  All  the  Bishops  are  present. 
This  morning  I  preaclied  at  the  First  Presbyterian  Church 
(Dr.  Wilson's),  on  Micah  vi.  8.  They  commended  the  ser- 
mon highly  as  a  good  Presbyterian  discourse! 

Sunday,  May  10. — Drs.  Hunt  and  Fowler,  and  General 
Fisk,  delegates  from  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
(North),  to  bear  us  fraternal  greetings,  have  been  received. 
Every  thing  went  off  in  the  best  style.  I  heard  Dr.  Fow- 
ler preach  to-day  an  excellent  sermon  in  Walnut  Street 
Church,  on  being  led  by  the  Spirit.  General  Fisk  addressed 
a  mass  Sunday-school  meeting  in  the  afternoon. 

Sunday,  May  17.  —  I  am  verj'  much  fatigued  —  over- 
worked. I  have  to  be  up  late  at  night  seeing  to  the  paper. 
Though  worn  down,  I  preached  this  morning  at  Broadway 
Methodist  Church,  on  John  xvi.  7-16 — the  work  of  the 
Paraclete.    Next  Sunday  bcinjj^  Pentecost,  I  thought  the 


The  Diary.  281 

subject  suitable,  especially  in  view  of  the  session  of  the  Con- 
ference. I  dined  in  the  suburbs,  with  my  wife  and  son, 
Brotlier  McCoy,  Miss  Gibson,  and  otliers,  at  Mr.  Lithgow'a 
— a  pleasant  retreat.     It  did  me  good. 

Saturday,  May  23.— F.  E.  Pitts  died  last  night.  "We 
performed  Jiis  obsequies  this  afteiuioon,  at  Walnut  Street 
Church.  He  died  in  peace.  lie  had  done  much  good  in 
his  life. 

Sunday,  May  24. — Whitsuntide.  "Come,  Holy  Ghost, 
Creator,  come  I "  We  need  his  sacred  unction.  This  morn- 
ing I  heard  A.  W.  Wilson,  son  of  my  first  presiding  elder, 
preach  an  excellent,  edifying  discourse  in  Walnut  Street 
Church.     I  was  rejoiced,  and  gave  him  my  blessing. 

Tuesday,  May  26. — C-onference  adjourned  to-day.  I  have 
been  reelected  to  all  my  offices.  I  hope  to  have  wisdom 
and  strength  to  fulfill  their  duties. 

Sunday,  June  21. — Yesterday  morning  I  was  summoned 
to  the  Maxwell  House— Thomas  Maddin,  D.D.,  had  just 
died !  We  made  arrangements  for  the  funeral  to-day.  In 
the  morning  I  preached  at  Arlington,  near  Brother  Weav- 
er's, which  was  draped  in  mourning  for  Dr.  Maddin.  I 
discoursed  on  Job  xv.  4.  In  the  afternoon  I  repaired  to 
Dr.  Jolm  Maddin's,  and,  with  otlier  ministers,  accompanied 
the  remains  to  McKendree  Church,  whei-e  I  united  with 
others  in  the  solemn  service.  Bishop  McTyeire  delivered 
a  discourse  on  the  life  of  Dr.  Maddin.  It  was  good.  lu 
addition  to  the  usual  service  we  sung  a  hymn  at  the  grave. 
It  was  solemn  and  afiecting. 


282  Dn.  Summers. 


Thursday,  July  16. — I  assisted  at  the  funeral  of  Dr. 
Green,  who  died  in  peace  at  two  p.m.  yesterday.  Bishop 
McT>'eire  and  Dr.  Kelley  delivered  suitable  discourses  in 
McKendree  Church,  the  building  in  which  Dr.  Green  was 
the  first  pastor.  He  was  my  great  friend.  I  shall  miss  him 
greatly.  But  I  follow  after.  He  was  laid  beside  his  son-in- 
law,  Captain  Hunter,  in  Mt.  Olivet  Cemetery.  He  died  in 
perfect  peace. 

Sunday,  July  19. — I  preached  this  morning  at  McKen- 
dree, on  Revelation  xxii.  3:  "And  his  servants  shall  serve 
him."  I  had  the  death  of  Dr.  Green  in  mind,  and  other 
friends  who  have  recently  passeil  away.  May  I  and  mine 
join  with  them  at  last  "in  work  and  worship  so  divine!" 

Monday,  August  10. — Mr.  Plaxton,  one  of  our  old  print- 
ers, was  buried  to-day.  I  visited  him  last  week.  He  seemed 
prepared  to  die.  We  feel  his  loss.  As  he  was  a  Protestant 
Episcopalian,  the  minister  did  not  call  on  us  to  assist  in  the 
service.    So  much  for  succession ! 

Sunday,  October  11. — This  day  I  am  sixty-two  years  old. 
I  feel  but  few  effects  of  age.  I  can  think,  write,  and  preach 
with  greater  readiness  than  ever  before.  But  I  get  tired  of 
earth,  and  have  a  desire  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ.  May 
my  remnant  of  days  be  spent  to  his  praise!  I  trust  him  to 
smooth  my  way  down  the  declivity  of  life.  My  son  pre- 
sented me  some  beautiful  birthday  verses,  which  pleasetl 
me  much.  He  writes  good  poetry.  I  prcachetl  this  morn- 
ing for  Dr.  Baird,  in  the  new  Cumberland  Presbyterian 
Church — a  spacious  amphitheater,  with  fine  acoustic  prop- 


The  Diary.  283 

erties.  I  discoursed  rather  long,  I  fear,  on  Luke  xv.  10. 
At  niglit  I  preached  for  Dr.  Jones  in  the  First  Baptist 
Church,  on  Psalm  xcvii.  11,  12.  Thus  I  spent  my  sixty- 
second  birthday. 

Sunday,  November  1. — I  preached  this  morning  at 
Thompson's  Chapel,  on  the  Xolensville  road,  on  Psalm 
xxvi.  8.  I  enjoyed  the  visit  to  the  country  this  glorious 
season;  but  "the  fading  glory"  is  fast  disappearing,  and 
"pale  concluding  winter  comes  at  last,  and  shuts  the  scene!" 
What  a  lesson  it  teaches! 

Tuesday,  December  15. — I  prayed  the  last  time  this 
morning  with  Dr.  Hamilton.  I  presided  awhile  at  night, 
while  the  Bishop  was  arranging  the  appointments ;  still  we 
did  not  adjourn  to-night. 

Wednesday,  December  16. — At  four  this  morning  James 
O.  Andrew  (son  of  the  late  Bishop)  brought  me  word  that 
Dr.  Hamilton  was  still  alive.  I  was  sorry  to  leave  my  old 
friend  in  articulo  mortis. 

Sunday,  December  20. — I  preached  this  morning  at 
North  Edgefield,  on  1  John  iii.  8,  second  clause,  in  view 
of  Christmas.  Dr.  Hamilton  died  about  one  P.M.  on  Mon- 
day. His  body  was  taken  to  Mobile  to  be  interred.  What 
a  loss  to  the  Church !  He  died  a  few  minutes  after  the  ap- 
pointments were  read  out,  his  being  Mobile  City  Mission. 
But  the  Bishop  of  bishops  transferred  him  to  heaven.  His 
wife  reached  him  the  day  before  his  death.  Farev.'ell,  fare- 
well! 

Friday,  December  25.— Our  churches  are  not  ojien  foj 


284  Db.  Summers. 


worship!  What  would  John  "Wesley  say  to  this?  I  attend- 
ed in  the  morning  tiie  laying  of  the  corner-stone  by  tlie 
Freemasons  of  the  Carroll  Street  Church,  Brother  Sa\vrie 
then  presiding.  After  dining  witli  Dr.  Kelley  I  went  with 
him  and  Brother  Sawrie  to  the  Penitentiary,  where  some 
prisoners  were  to  be  released,  but  the  Governor  was  preclud- 
ed attendance.  Speeches  were  made;  I  made  a  short  ad- 
dress; some  by  prisoners;  hymns  sung,  etc.;  and  so  I  spent 
my  Christmas.  I  told  the  pri.soners  that  I  could  not  despise 
humanity,  however  fallen,  since  the  eternal  God's  eternal 
Son  had  allied  it  to  his  divinity  I 

Friday,  January  1,  1875. — Brother  McCoy  and  Miss 
Maria  Gibson  (his  wife's  niece)  arc  with  us.  They  are  jijst 
from  Mobile,  whither  they  went  to  condole  with  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton, and  to  extend  to  her  such  assistance  as  she  might 
need.  That  was  generous.  They  accompanied  mc  last 
night  to  McKendrce  Church,  where  I  preached  at  the 
watch-meeting,  on  2  Timothy  iv.  6-8.  "We  renewed  onr 
covenant.  I  trust  the  service  was  profitable.  I  feel  pensive 
this  New-year's-day.  So  many  of  my  personal  friends  have 
died  during  the  past  year.  Yesterday  we  heard  of  the 
death  of  Dr.  Field,  who  lived  some  years  with  us.  He  died 
in  peace.  He  was  greatly  attached  to  Osmond.  They  have 
met  in  paradise!  While  at  the  watch-meeting  burglars 
broke  into  our  store-room  and  carried  off  most  of  our  pro- 
visions. We  have  several  times  been  treated  so.  We  know 
of  no  safeguard.  We  are  sorry  for  the  wretched  thieves.  I 
want  to  get  to  heaven,  where  no  such  things  occur. 


The  DiAiiY.  286 

Tuesday,  February  IG. — I  attended  the  funeral  of  Broth- 
er Allen,  who  wandered  from  his  house  into  the  canebrake 
and  perished,  being  deranged.  He  was  a  good  man.  Drs. 
Young,  Hargrove,  and  Hill  officiated.  It  was  in  the  Mc- 
Kendree  Church,    What  a  mystery  is  a  ca.se  like  this ! 

Sunday,  April  27. — This  afternoon  I  delivered  an  address 
at  the  funeral  of  Mrs.  Dora  McFerrin,  wife  of  James  W. 
McFerrin  (son  of  the  Doctor)  and  daughter  of  Colonel  Wat- 
son M.  Cooke,  a  great  friend.     She  died  in  Jesus. 

Sunday,  May  16. — I  heard  J.  W.  Hanner  in  the  morn* 
ing,  and  Mr.  Whittle  at  the  Exposition  in  the  afternoon. 
I  also  heard  him  Tliursday  night.  His  sermons  and  the 
songs  they  sing  are  pretty  well  charged  with  solifidianism,  -^ 
yet  by  their  earnestness  and  zeal  I  trust  good  is  done.  [The 
use  of  that  long  word  here  lias  much  significance.] 

Sunday,  June  6. — I  have  come  to  Millersburg,  Ky.,  to 
preach  the  Commencement  sermon  of  the  Wesleyan  Uni- 
versity, which  I  did  this  morning  in  the  Methodist  Church, 
on  Psalm  viii.  3,  4.  At  night  I  preached  again,  on  Micah 
vi.  8.  Dr.  Charles  Taylor,  formerly  a  missionary  to  China, 
closed  both  services.  Dr.  Stitt  took  me  from  Paris  to  Mil- 
lersburg in  a  buggy,  and  showed  me  a  fine  i^icture  of  the 
great  blue-grass  region.  President  Darley  took  us  through 
the  university  and  showed  us  his  laboratory,  museum,  etc. 
He  is  an  accomplished  scientist.  There  are  but  few  stu- 
dents here — there  ought  to  be  hundreds.  I  stay  with  Mrs. 
Nunn,  mother  of  the  Rev.  H.  A.  M.  Henderson,  D.D.,  and 
whose  second  husband  was  of  the  same  family  with  Dr. 

• 


286  Db.  Summers. 


Durbin.  She  showed  me  a  wardrobe  tliat  lie  made  wlicn  a 
cabinet-maker.  He  served  liis  apprenticeship  at  Paris, 
capital  of  Bourbon  county. 

Sunday,  August  8. — Tiie  country  is  profoundly  affected 
by  the  death  of  Mr.  Johnson.  He  died,  but  made  no  sign! 
The  Masons  burieii  him.  I  preached  this  morning  at  the 
Factory,  t'laiborne's,  on  Matthew  v.  47:  "  What  do  ye  nn're 
than  others?"  The  discourse  was  adaj»te<l  to  the  week  of 
prayer  which  begins  to-day.  I  preached  at  night  in  Moore 
Memorial  Presbyterian  Church,  on  Philippians  i.  27-30. 

Sunday,  September  19. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Elm 
Street,  on  2  Corinthians  iii.  1-3.  I  dined  with  Dr.  Ross, 
whose  daughter  Lucy  went  to  heaven  recently.  I  called  at 
the  "Old  Academy,"  and  saw  Drs.  Garland  and  (iranbery, 
who  arrived  yesterday. 

Sunday,  October  3. — To-day  we  dedicated  the  Vanderbilt 
University.  Bishop  Doggett  preached  in  the  morning,  and 
Bishop  Wightman  in  the  afternoon,  in  the  Chapel,  which 
was  crowded. 

Monday,  October  4. — The  inauguration  service  took 
place  to-day.  Governor  Patton,  Dr.  Deems,  Dr.  Lii)sct)mb, 
Bishop  McTyeire,  and  Chancellor  Garland  delivered  ad- 
dresses. The  keys  were  formally  delivered  by  the  Bishop 
to  the  Chancellor,  and  every  thing  went  off"  well.  There 
was  a  grand  reception  at  the  Chancellor's  to-night.  Bish- 
op Wightman,  wife,  and  child  are  our  guests. 

Monday,  October  11. — I  have  this  d»y  attained  my  cli- 
macteric— old  age  or  death  will  soon  be  on  me.     I  trust  I 


The  Diary.  287 

shall  be  prepared  for  either  How  have  I  looked  forward 
to  this  day  I  Thank  God  for  preserving  mercy.  My  son 
wrote  me  a  beautiful,  tender  birthday  poem.  I  have  been 
very  much  engaged,  attending  Faculty  meetings  and  other 
things.  I  have  the  influenza  too.  I  pray  for  bodily  and 
spiritual  strength  for  my  onerous  engagements. 

Sunday,  October  17. — I  delivered  my  introductory  lect- 
ure to  a  large  audience  in  tlie  Chapel  this  afternoon.  The 
Bishop,  Chancellor,  and  others  spoke  kindly  of  it,  and  want 
it  printed. 

Monday,  November  22. — I  buried  this  afternoon  Dr. 
Hargrove's  sweet  little  Clifton,  whom  I  baptized  a  little 
over  three  years  ago.  Other  ministers  assisted  in  the 
service  at  McKendree.  Clifton  died  of  diphtheria.  His 
brother  Battle  and  sister  Alice  are  verj'  ill  with  typhoid 
fever. 

Sunday,  November  28. — After  visiting  our  sick  and  be- 
reaved friends  Dr.  Hargrove  (whose  children  are  very  low), 
Mrs.  Frizzell,  etc.,  and  Brother  Goodloe  (a  student,  son  of 
Dr.  Goodloe,  who  is  with  him  at  the  Old  Academy),  I  went 
to  West  End,  and  administered  the  Lord's  Supper.  Brother 
Green,  the  pastor,  preached.  Dr.  Granbery  preached  at 
the  Chapel.  After  service  I  baptized  Nannie  Mun,  a  sweet 
little  infant  of  Judge  Lewis,  son-in-law  of  Dr.  Garland,  at 
whose  house  it  took  place.  The  Judge  is  on  his  way  to 
Washington,  being  a  member  of  Congress  from  Alabar 

Sunday,  December  12. — I  reached  Greenville,  the  seat 
of  the  Alabama  Conference,  December  9.     The  Conference 


Db.  SUMMh'ns. 


opened  the  day  before.  Bishop  Jlarvin  presides.  I  am 
lodged  at  Brother  Gandv's.  I  have  had  ripe  strawberries 
and  Irish  potatoes  just  from  tlie  garden.  I  addressed  tlie 
missionary  meeting  last  night,  the  Sunday-school  this  morn- 
ing, and  preached  on  Acts  viii.  37  at  the  oi-dination  of  eld- 
ers in  tlie  afternoon.  I  laid  hands  on  them,  a  son  of  James 
O.  Andrew,  late  Bishop,  bearing  his  father's  name,  and  a 
son  of  my  friend  Dr.  Peterson  (John  A.)  were  among  them. 
Bishop  Andrew  ordained  rae.     This  was  pleasant. 

Saturday,  January  1,  187G. — I  preached  at  the  watch- 
meeting  at  West  End,  on  Ecclesiastes  xii.  13,  14.  Bishop 
McTyeire  conducted  the  covenant  service.  Thank  the  Lonl 
we  see  a  new  year — may  liis  mercy  carry  us  safely  through 
it!  I  repent  of  all  past  sins;  I  take  refuge  in  the  atone- 
ment; I  consecrate  all  I  am  and  all  I  liave  to  the  Holy. 
Trinity.  I  visited  Fisk  University  to-day.  General  Fisk 
and  others  delivered  addresses  at  its  dedication.  It  is  for 
the  education  of  colored  youths  of  both  sexes.  I  wish  it 
prosperity.  I  made  New-j-ear's calls  with  Dr  Kelley.  Mrs. 
Polk — the  venerable  widow  of  President  Polk — seeme<l 
glad  to  see  us.  Some  friends  dined  with  us,  and  so  closed 
aa  unusually  festive  vacation.  May  we  all  be  girded  and 
sandaled  for  the  journey  before  us! 

Sunday,  January  16. — My  Sally  would  have  been  thirty- 
one  years  of  age  to-day  if  she  had  remained  on  the  earth. 
How  old  is  she  in  heaven? 

Sunday.  .April  2. — I  am  quite  unwell.  I  heard  Profess- 
or Winchell  deliver  a  discourse  in  the  Vanderbilt  thu 


The  Diary.  289 

afternoon,  on  the  Interactions  of  the  Intellectual  and  the 
Religious  Faculties.  I  do  not  make  such  a  distinction. 
Religion  embraces  intellect  as  well  as  the  will  and  the 
feelings.  Dr.  Winchell  has  the  cliair  of  Geology  in  the 
university  for  half  the  session.  He  thinks  the  nebular  the- 
ory and  evolution  are  not  incompatible  with  the  Bible.  I 
cannot  reconcile  them. 

Sunday,  April  23. — Dr.  Lipscomb  preached  this  after- 
noon at  the  Vanderbilt  Chapel,  on  the  expediency  of  Christ's 
leaving  the  earth.  He  branched  out  eloquently  into  some 
mystical  improvements  of  the  subject. 

Thursday,  July  13. — I  assisted  in  Tulip  Street  at  the 
funeral  of  Hugh  Morrow,  son  of  William  H.  Morrow,  who 
was  drowned  in  the  Cumberland  on  Tuesday,  near  the  res- 
ervoir in  which  my  Clara  was  drowned ;  and  he  was  of  the 
same  age — eleven. 

Sunday,  September  10. — We  have  had  a  visit  from  Pro- 
fessor Huxley.  We  showed  him,  his  wife,  sister  (Mrs. 
Scott),  and  niece  (Mrs.  Roberts)  through  the  Vanderbilt. 
He  seemed  much  pleased.  He  lectured  to  an  immense  au- 
dience at  Masonic  Hall,  September  7.  He  developed  his 
scheme  of  Uniformitarianism,  and  pronounced  it  irrecon- 
cilable with  the  popular  view  of  the  age  of  the  world.  We 
demurred  to  his  ignoring  catastrophes  and  cataclysms.  He 
was  not  heard  by  many  in  the  house,  and  all  were  disap- 
pointed. My  son,  who  knew  him  as  a  scientist  in  Europe, 
introduced  him.  I  told  him,  "You  did  not  hurt  us  much." 
He  replied,  "I  did  not  want  to  hurt  you  at  all."  This 
19 


290  Dr.  Summers. 

morning,  tifter  addressing  the  Siinday-school,  1  prcadied  in 
the  new,  unfinished  church  in  Gallatin,  on  Micaii  vi.  8;  and 
at  niglit,  on  Hebrews  iv.  9.  One  of  our  Vanderbilt  Iwya  is 
supplying  the  pulpit  made  vacant  by  the  removal  of  Broth- 
er Plumme'r.  I  staid  with  Brother  Holder — the  Waltons 
are  absent. 

Tuesday,  October  3. — I  assisted  at  tlie  reinterment  of  the 
remains  of  Bishops  McKendree  and  Soule.  Bishop  Mc- 
Kendree's  remains  were  scarcely  distinguishable,  except  by 
a  few  bones.  Bishop  Soule's  were  fast  approaching  the 
same  state.  O  how  repulsive!  "Great  God,  is  this  our 
certain  doom?"  We  marched  from  the  university  to  the 
beautiful  spot  selected  for  the  graves  and  monument.  Many 
ministers  of  the  Tennessee  Conference  were  present.  They 
bore  the  sacred  remains  to  what  we  supjwse  will  be  their 
last  resting-place.  We  sung,  "And  let  this  feeble  lK)dy 
fail,"  etc.  The  Rev.  F.  A.  Owen  ofTered  prayer.  Bishop 
JIcTyeire  made  an  address.  Dr.  McFerrin  added  a  few 
Avonis,  then  was  sung,  "  How  firm  a  foundation,"  etc.  The 
students  then  filled  in  the  earth,  and  the  large  assembly 
dispersed. 

Wednesday,  October  11. — I  have  passed  quite  through 
my  grand  climacteric.  I  am  sixty-four  to-day.  They  be- 
gin to  call  me  old,  though  I  do  not  feel  so.  May  this  be  a 
g(xxl  year  to  me!    May  I 

Deeper  sink,  and  higher  rise, 
And  to  perfection  growl 

God  bless  my  wife  and  son  and  his  family,  and  keep  them 


The  Diary.  291 

to  eternal  life!  I  want  them  all  to  be  zealous  in  the  cause 
of  Christ.  When  I  leave  for  heaven,  I  want  to  know  that 
they  are  full  speed  on  the  way. 

Sunday,  December  17. — I  heard  W.  M.Green  this  morn- 
ing at  West  End,  and  Dr.  Dodd  in  the  afternocm  at  the 
Vanderbilt — a  good  sermon  on  "Be  careful  for  nothing." 
It  was  a  word  in  season  to  me,  as  our  business  is  in  great 
straits. 

Monday,  December  25. — A  cold,  sad  Cliristmas — I  can- 
not get  out.  I  fell  down  on  the  iced  porch  last  evening, 
and  hurt  myself.  On  Friday  and  Saturday  the  Bisliops  and 
Book  Committee  met,  to  concoct  measures  for  the  relief  of 
the  Publishing  House.  I  met  with  them  one  day  (Friday). 
All  the  Bishops  were  present  part  of  the  time  except  Bish- 
op Paine  (sick)  and  Bishop  Marvin  (abroad).  The  case  is 
desperate.  May  God  help  us  through !  We  thank  God  for 
the  gift  of  his  Son.  As  he  assumed  our  nature,  may  wo  be 
partakers  of  a  divine  nature! 

Sunday,  January  7,  1877. — Commodore  Vanderbilt  died 
January  4.  We  adopted  resolutions  at  a  Faculty  meeting 
on  the  occasion.  We  draped  the  Chapel  in  mourning,  and 
.'suspended  all  exercises  at  the  university  till  after  Sunday, 
when  he  is  to  be  buried. 

Sunday,  March  11. — I  preached  at  West  End  this  morn- 
ing, on  John  xxi.  17:  "Lovestthou  me?"  I  hope  good 
was  done.  I  am  sure  I  do  love  the  Saviour — I  "love  his 
appearing."     "Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly!" 

Sunday,  April  1. — Easter-day.     Judge  East  delivered  a 


292  Dr.  Summers. 


discourse  on  "Jesus  and  tlie  resurrection,"  in  tiie  Vander- 
bilt  Chapel  this  afternoon.  It  was  well  done  from  a  law- 
yer's stand-jwint. 

Friday,  August  24. — I  spent  the  greater  part  of  Wednes- 
day with  Colonel  Cooke,  expecting  him  to  die.  He  lingered 
till  yesterday  morning  eleven  o'clock,  when  he  departed  in 
peace,  whispering  in  death,  "All  is  well!"  We  buried  him 
to-day.  He  charged  me  to  prepare  liis  obsequies.  A  great 
assembly  attended  in  Tulip  Street  ("hurch.  The  pjistor,  J. 
P  McFerrin,  assisted.  We  took  him  to  Mt.  Olivet.  He 
was  an  honest,  princely  merchant,  and  a  liumble  Christian 
— one  of  my  most  de^'oted  friends. 

Stmday,  September  10. — Yesterday  I  delivered  a  search- 
ing discourse  at  the  funeral  of  a  harlot.  Many  of  her  com- 
panions were  there,  elegantly  dressed  and  well  behaved. 
They  wept  and  sobbed  as  I  aj'pcaled  to  them,  and  all  knelt 
m  prayer.  Tlie  scene  was  one  of  thrilling  interest.  Broth- 
er Brinsfield — one  of  our  preachers — happened  to  come 
along  at  the  time,  and  took  j>art  in  the  service.  But  who 
can  do  any  good  to  these  poor  outcasts  ?  In  the  afternoon, 
Brother  Allison  took  mc  to  Brentwood,  where  I  preached 
this  morning,  on  Genesis  vi.  9.  I  got  home  in  time  for 
the  Chapel  service,  which  I  conducted,  Chancellor  Garland 
delivering  an  admirable  discourse  on  Lamentations  iii.  27.  ^ 

Thursday,  October  11. — I  am  to-day  sixty-five  years  of 
age.  I  do  not  fear  getting  old — but  I  suppose  I  am.  I 
would  not  be  younger  if  I  could.  I  am  like  Cicero's  Cato 
io  that^  and  with  more  reason  tlian  he,  as  I  have,  while  he 

Jf   h  Cr-ypL  ^  -t-  /^^^-^  A^  ^  ^^-^^  ^ 


The  Diary.  293 

had  not,  a  solid  foundation  f(  r  my  hope  of  eternal  life  be- 
yond the  grave.    Conference  [Tennessee]  adjourned  to-day. 

Saturday,  October  27. — I  came  to  Cleveland  yesterday  to 
attend  the  Holston  Conference.  I  addressed  the  Confer- 
ence this  morning;  preached  before  it  in  the  afternoon,  on 
John  xxi.  19,  "Follow  me,"  and  addressed  a  large  audi- 
ence on  missions  at  night.     Dr.  McFerrin  followed  me. 

Sunday,  December  2. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Moore 
Memorial  Church,  on  Philipj>ians  iii.  13,  14.  In  the  after- 
noon I  took  part  in  a  memorial-service  at  McKendree,  foi 
Bishop  Marvin,  who  died  at  St.  Louis,  November  26.  His 
death  has  spread  a  pall  over  the  Connection.  Bishop  Mc- 
Tyeire  delivered  an  excellent  discourse.  Several  other 
ministers  took  part  in  the  solemn  service. 

Monday,  December  17  [at  Montgomery,  Alabama].  — 
The  election  of  delegates  to  the  General  Conference  came 
off  to-day.  I  was  elected  by  a  large  vote,  first  on  the  first 
ballot.  The  brethren  have  not  forgotten  me.  1  hope  to 
justify  their  confidence. 

Tuesday,  December  25. — "We  hail  the  Saviour's  birth! 
I  discoursed  on  it  this  morning  in  the  Penitentiary.  Sev 
eral  brethren  assisted.  The  convicts  sung  some  Christmas 
songs.  We  wished  to  cheer  tlieir  gloomy  prison  by  telling 
them  of  Him  who  came  the  prisoners  to  release. 

Tuesday,  January  1,  1878. — I  attended  watch-meeting 
last  night  at  West  End.  W.  H.  Cherry  preaclied,  and  I 
conducted  the  service.  It  was  a  profitable  occasion.  So 
we  begin  another  year.     Shall  we  witness  its  close?    God 


294  Dr.  Summers. 


protect  mc  and  mine,  and  bring  us  safely  and  happily 
through  the  year! 

Sunday,  April  21. — Easter-day — I  went  by  request  to  the 
Penitentiary,  and  preaclied  on  Luke  xxiv.  34:  "The  Lord 
is  risen  indeed."  The  prisoners  seemed  nmch  interested. 
Just  as  I  closed,  Brother  Joseph  Hamilton  came  to  me  to 
go  to  McKendree,  as  Dr.  Kelley  was  taken  sick  with  diph- 
theria; so  I  hastened  thither,  baptized  six  ciiildren,  and 
preached  on  2  Timothy  ii.  8,  another  Easter  sermon.  In 
tiie  afternoon  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brj-son,  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  gave  us  an  interesting  discourse  on  what  he  had 
witnessed  in  the  Holy  Land  in  liis  late  tour,  dwelling  espe- 
cially on  the  sacred  places  in  Jerusalem,  suited  to  the  East- 
er service.  All  seemed  pleased  and  profited.  The  choir 
sung  a  piece  whicli  I  wrote  for  the  music  to  which  a  hymn 
to  the  Virgin  is  set — 0  gloriosa  dominas.  AVe  adapted  it 
to  the  M'orship  of  our  risen  Ix)rd. 

Wednesday,  May  1. — We  readied  Atlanta  yesterday,  and 
opened  the  General  Conference  at  ten  o'clock  this  morning. 
We  met  in  tlie  basement  of  the  First  Church — not  a  good 
place.  I  am  chosen  Secretary.  I  have  also  to  edit  the 
Dailij  Christian  Advocate.  Drs.  Haygood,  Babcock,  and 
Johnson  (W.  C.)  are  assistants.  Brother  Chew,  one  of  our 
Vanderbilt  boys,  is  with  me.  Brother  Lafferty,  editor  of 
the  Richmond  Christian  Advocate,  b  reporter.  There  Ls  a 
good  attendance. 

Friday,  May  24. — Conference  closed  its  session  at  sunset. 
It  has  not  been  a  pleasant  session.    Many,  especially  of  th« 


The  Diary.  295 

lay  delegates,  seemed  to  forget  that  thev  were  in  "a  court 
of  Jesus  Christ."  Many  tilings  of  an  unpleasant  character 
took  place,  particularly  in  regard  to  the  Book  Agent  and 
the  Publishing  House.  I  begged  my  name  to  be  withheld 
as  editor  of  the  Advocate.  Dr.  O.  P.  Fitzgerald  was  chosen 
in  my  place,  though  I  am  still  Book  Editor.  Dr.  McFer- 
rin  is  Agent.  Dr.  Alpheus  W.  Wilson  is  Secretary  of  Board 
of  Missions.  A.  G.  Haygood  is  to  edit  a  new  paper  at  Ma- 
con, iHeorgia.  W.  M.  Kennedy  removes  with  the  South 
Carolina  Advocate  to  South  Carolina.  A.  H.  Redford  starts 
the  SoiUhej-n  Meihodifit  at  Louisville,  Kentucky.  Small 
chance  for  the  Nashville  Christian  Advocate.  No  Bishop 
has  been  elected.  Wc  had  fraternal  messages  from  the 
Northern  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  the  Canada  Meth- 
odist Church,  the  Methodist  Protestant  Church,  and  the 
African  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  The  addresses  were 
all  good.  The  address  of  Dr.  Douglas,  of  Canada,  was  tran- 
scendent; yet  he  has  a  body  partly  dead,  having  been  poi- 
soned by  malaria  when  he  was  a  missionary  in  the  AVest 
Indies.  The  fraternal  letter  from  tlie  British  Conference 
was  read,  and  responded  to  by  our  Conference.  We  adopt- 
ed measures  for  the  Ecumenical  Conference,  and,  at  my 
suggestion,  for  the  Centenary  of  American  Methodism  in 
Baltimore  in  1884. 

Sunday,  July  14. — I  preached  this  morning  at  McKen- 
dree,  on  Leviticus  xix.  18.  Dr.  Fitzgerald  was  present. 
He  has  arrived  to  take  charge  of  the  Advocate ;  so  my  editing 
of  that  ceases!    I  have  worked  hard  on  it  for  twelve  vears. 


2116  Dr.  Summers. 


Sunday,  September  15, — I  have  li:ul  a  fearful  trial  this 
•week.  O  Lord,  I  am  oppressed — undertake  for  me!  Lord, 
help  me!  This  morning  I  preached  at  Carroll  Street  Church, 
on  Psalm  cxxx.  4.  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  editor  of  the  Advocate, 
preached  at  the  Vanderbilt  in  the  afternoon.  Mj  son  writes 
that  the  fever  at  Memphis  is  awful — over  a  hundred  die 
daily.  He  is  successful  in  his  treatment  of  patients.  He 
is  making  a  pathological  study,  disse<tJng,  etc.  He  sjiys  he 
•was  never  in  better  health,  though  breathing  the  vapors  of 
death!  He  says  he  believes  it  is  in  answer  to  prayer. 
Lord,  restore  unto  him  the  joy  of  thy  salvation,  and  upliold 
him  with  thy  free  Spirit! 

Friday,  October  11. — I  am  this  day  sixty-six  years  old. 
I  cannot  feel  that  I  am  getting  into  years;  but  Fwould  not 
be  younger.  I  thank  God  for  prolonging  my  life,  but  I 
want  to  get  to  my  heavenly  hpmel  This  is  a  sad,  bad 
world. 

"Wednesday,  January  1,  1879. — I  was  preclnded  attend- 
ance at  the  watch-meeting  in  McKendree  by  fatigue  and 
bad  weather.  I  reconsecrate  all  I  have,  and  am,  and  can 
do,  to  God.  Lord,  let  not  this  year  be  so  afflictive  as  the 
last,  in  wliich  I  suffered  in  mind  more  than  ever  before 
since  my  conversion.  God  grant  that  my  wife,  son,  and 
his  family  may  be  blessed  in  l)ody  and  soul  this  year!  If  I 
knew  it  were  to  be  my  last  on  earth,  it  would  give  me  joy. 
I  feel  dispose*!  to  say.  Nunc  dimitto.  But  I  wait  the  Lord's 
leisure.    We  had  a  pleasant  dining  at  Wesley  Hall. 

Sunday,  March  16. — T  have  been  attending  a  noon  meet- 


The  Diary.  297 

ing  at  McKendree  this  week,  and  taking  part  in  it.  Once 
or  twice  Mr.  Barnes,  an  evangelist  from  Kentucky,  was 
present.  He  is  eccentric — his  head  is  not  very  level,  and 
his  addresses  savor  of  Antinomianism.  This  morning  I 
preached  at  Xorth  Nashville  Presbyterian  Church  (Mr. 
Bartlett,  pastor),  on  1  Corinthians  xi.  28,  and  united  in  the 
Lord's  Supper.  We  had  a  pleasant  and  profitable  time. 
Dr.  lapscomb  preached  an  eloquent  sermon  at  Vanderbilt. 

Sunday,  May  4. — I  assisted  at  the  dedication  of  North 
Edgefield  Church,  which  has  been  renovated.  Dr.  McFer- 
rin.  Bishop  McTyeire,  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  and  myself — four 
editors  of  the  Nashville  Christian  Advocate  since  1840 — took 
part  in  the  service.  We  dined  at  Dr.  McFerrin's.  Dr. 
Dodd  preached  in  the  afternoon  at  Vanderbilt. 

Sunday,  September  7. — I  preached  this  morning  at  Hob- 
son's  Chapel,  on  Acts  xxvi.  28;  and  at  night  in  the  First 
Presbyterian  Church,  on  Acts  ii.  47.  In  the  afternoon  Dr. 
Granbery  preached  an  excellent  sermon  in  the  Vanderbilt 
Chapel,  suited  to  the  opening  of  the  session.  We  are  in 
full  operation.  On  September  4,  we  broke  ground,  witli 
due  formalities,  for  new  Wesley  Hall.  Mr.  W.  H.  Van- 
derbilt gives  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  build  it  and 
a  gymnasium,  and  an  edifice  for  the  civil  engineering  de- 
partment. 

Saturday,  October  11. — I  am  sixty-seven  to-day.  God 
be  praised  for  preserving  mercy!  I  am  attending  the  ses- 
sion of  the  Tennessee  Conference  at  Murfreesboro,  and  am 
entertained  by  Mr.  .Jorrlan,  a  good   Ba])tist  brother.     Mrs, 


298  Dr.  Summers. 


Jordan  served  us  up  a  fine  plum  pudding  in  honor  of  my 
birthday.    God  bless  them  I 

Thursday,  January  1,  1880. — My  illness  precluded  my 
attendance  at  watch-meeting.  But  I  survey  tlie  past  with 
>«hame  and  sorrow  and  gratitude,  and  look  forward  to  the 
future  with  trust  and  hope.    I  have  much  sorrow. 

Sunday,  January  4. — I  administered  the  communion  at 
West  End,  after  a  short  sermon  from  J.  W.  Hill.  I  ex- 
liorted  a  little,  and  we  sung  the  Covenant  Hymn.  Dr.  A. 
W.  Wilson  preached  a  capital  sermon  at  Vanderbilt  Chapel 
in  the  afternoon,  on  Jacob's  wrestling. 

Sunday,  January  18. — Sally  would  have  been  thirty-five 
on  Friday  had  she  lived.    How  old  is  she  now? 

Tuesday,  February  10. — We  suspended  university  exer- 
cises to  attend  the  funeral  of  Mr.  Dempsey  Weaver,  late 
Treasurer  of  Vanderbilt  University.  He  died  at  Nassau, 
February  3,  whither  he  had  gone  for  health.  He  was  an 
important  member  of  our  Book  Committee,  and  a  liberal 
supporter  of  the  Church.  He  kept  four  beneficiaries  at 
Wesley  Hall,  preparing  for  the  ministry.  I  took  part  in 
the  obsequies  at  the  liouse.     His  death  is  deeply  lamented. 

Sunday,  February  15. — A  tornado  swept  over  Nashville 
last  Thursday  night,  doing  great  damage.  We  suflfered  a 
little.  Yesterday  I  sent  my  youngest  grandson  his  first 
birthday  poetry.  God  bless  the  cliildl  How  my  heart 
yearns  over  my  son  and  his  children!  This  morning  I 
preached  unexpectedly  at  West  End,  on  Philippiuns  iv.  4. 
Dr.  Fitzgerald,  who  w.hs  to  have  prcachetl,  was  called  away 


The  Diary.  299 

to  a  funeral.  J.  W,  Hill  preached  in  the  afternoon  at  the 
Vanderbilt. 

Sunday,  February  29. — Friday  night  I  slept  not  at  all — 
my  eyes  were  held  waking  with  trouble.  This  morning  I 
staid  at  home.  In  the  afternoon  I  preached  at  Vanderbilt 
Chapel,  on  Matthew  v.  47 :  "  What  do  ye  more  than  oth- 
ers?"    Brother  Sawrie  was  to  have  preached. 

Sunday,  March  28. — I  preached  an  Easter  sermon  at 
Vanderbilt  Chapel  in  the  afternoon,  on  Luke  xxiv.  34: 
"  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed."  Fifty  years  ago  I  landed  in 
Kew  York,  and  lieard  Easter  sermons  in  Protestant  Episco- 
pal churches.  I  remember  one  of  the  hymns  sung:  "Rise 
my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings." 

Sunday,  June  27. — I  preached  at  Arlington  this  morn- 
ing, on  Philippians  i.  21 :  "To  die  is  gain" — having  in  view 
the  recent  death  of  Brother  Dempsey  Weaver  of  that  church. 
In  the  afternoon  I  preached  at  the  Hospital  for  the  Insane, 
on  Isaiah  Ixvi.  13.  Before  preaching,  walking  by  the  lake, 
my  hat  fell  off;  trying  to  catch  it,  I  fell  into  the  lake  over  my 
head ;  I  swam  and  clambered  out,  went  to  the  house,  bor- 
rowed a  suit  of  clothes  to  substitute  my  drenched  apparel; 
preached  and  returned  home,  thankful  it  was  not  worse. 

Sunday,  August  29. — I  preached  for  the  German  Meth- 
odists, North  Nashville,  this  morning,  on  Ephesians  v.  8. 
They  sung  in  German,  I  in  English.  We  had  a  pleasant 
time.     They  generally  understood  me. 

Monday,  October  11. — Thank  God  for  another  birthday  I 
—JEt.  68.     I  shall  hail  the  last. 


300  Dr.  Summers. 


Sunday,  December  5. — Tl>i.s  morning  I  assistetl  in  Sun- 
day-school and  preached  at  Foster  Street,  on  Mattliew  v. 
13.  Dr.  McFerrin  closed  witli  prayer.  He  is  deeply  af- 
flicted for  the  loss  of  his  son.  In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Hill 
preached  at  Vanderbilt.  I  exhorted.  Several  students 
have  recently  professed  conversion  at  West  End  Church. 
At  night  Chanceilor  Garland  delivered  a  fine  address  to  the 
medical  students,  at  Elm  Street.  The  house  was  crowded. 
I  conducted  the  service.     Dr.  Fitzgerald  closed. 

Wednesday,  December  8.  —  I  reached  Pcnsjicola  last 
night.  I  am  quartered  at  Captain  Chipley's.  He  is  a 
grandson  of  the  Rev.  S.  Chipley,  a  local  preacher  of  Ken- 
tucky in  other  years,  whom  I  knew.  His  wife  is  a  Baptist. 
A  Tiaptist  lady  of  Nashville — Miss  Winston — is  staying  at 
the  Captain's.  Tliey  made  my  visit  pleasant.  The  .Alaba- 
ma Conference  ojjcned  this  morning.  Bishop  McTyeire 
presides.  In  the  afternoon  Captain  Chipley,  who  is  super- 
intendent of  the  steam-ship  line  to  Havana,  took  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Conference  and  friends  in  the  fine  new  steam- 
ship Admiral,  down  Pensacola  Bay,  and  out  to  the  Gulf. 
We  stopjied  at  the  Navy-yard  and  inspected  it. 

Saturday,  January  1,  1881. — I  renew  my  vows  at  the 
beginning  of  another  year.  O  what  trials  have  I  passed 
through!  God  help  my  poor  family!  We  had  our  New- 
year's  festival  at  Wesley  Hall.  The  students  and  others 
engaged  in  it.  I  acted  as  "Chorus,"  as  before.  I  wished 
to  please  "the  b<»ys,"  and  others.  Mrs.  Vanderbilt  faj  j  for 
the  feixst. 


The  Diary.  301 

Wednesday,  January  26. — On  Monday  Bishop  McTyeire, 
Professor  Jones,  of  University  of  Mississippi,  and  myself, 
left  Nashville,  via  Cincinnati  and  Columbus,  for  New  York. 
The  scenery  was  desolate — snow  all  the  route  on  the  ground. 
We  reached  New  York  at  eight  a.m.  Professor  Jones  and 
I  went  to  the  New  York  Hotel,  but  there  was  no  room  for 
us  in  the  inn.  The  brethren  at  the  Book  Concern  took  us 
to  the  St.  Deny's,  near  by.  The  meeting  of  the  Western 
Section  of  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Ecumenical 
Conference  was  opened  by  Bishop  Simpson,  who  called  on 
Bishop  McTyeire  to  pray.  Twelve  Connections  were  rep- 
resented. A  committee  (of  which  I  was  chairman)  was 
appointed  to  which  certain  papers  were  referred. 

Thursday,  January  27. — The  Section  finished  its  business 
to-day,  and  its  action  is  referred  to  tlie  Eastern  Section.  A 
paper  containing  suggestions  of  topics  for  discussion  by  the 
Ecumenical  Conference  was  read,  and  on  motion  of  Bishop 
Simpson  ordered  to  be  printed  and  forwarded  to  the  Busi- 
ness Committee  in  London.  I  wrote  it  when  I  did  not 
expect  to  attend  the  meeting  of  the  Section.  The  meeting 
was  harmonious. 

Sunday,  March  20. — I  preached  at  Vanderbilt  this  after- 
noon, on  Genesis  vi.  9.  We  prayed  for  Mrs.  A.  L.  P.  Green 
before  sermon,  when  she  was  dying.  After  service,  the 
Chancellor,  Dr.  Safford,  and  myself  went  to  Mr.  Fite's,  and 
found  that  she  died  during  the  sermon! 

Sunday,  April  17. — On  Good  Friday  I  took  "the  boys" 
down  to  West  End  after  class,  and  I  delivered  a  discourse 


302  Dr.  Summers. 


on  the  passion.  Tliis  morning  I  preaclied  there,  on  Reve- 
lation i.  17,  18.  Brother  R.  K.  Brown  gave  us  an  edifying 
Easter  sermon  at  Vanderbilt.  The  choir  sung  an  Easter 
hymn  wliich  I  composed  for  tliem,  and  did  it  Avell. 

Sunday,  May  29. — Our  Commencement  exercises  closed 
on  Friday,  Founder's  day.  "We  liad  eight  graduates  in  the 
Biblical  department,  fivo  being  full  term.  Last  week  was 
a  trying  week  to  me,  being  afilicted.  I  preached  (with 
some  difficulty)  this  morning  in  McKendree,  on  1  Corin- 
tiiians  xiv.  34,  35,  against  woman's  preaching.  It  created 
some  talk. 

Sunday,  August  14. — My  trials  break  my  heart.  But 
my  afflictions  drive  me  nearer  to  God.  I  cast  my  anxiety 
upon  him — he  is  concerned  for  me.  I  came  out  yesterday 
to  the  Hospital  for  the  Insane,  where  I  preached  this  after- 
noon, on  1  Peter  v.  7 ;  in  the  morning  at  Arlington,  close 
by,  on  Deuteronomy  xxxiv.  5,  6.  My  wife  and  I  spent  n 
day  and  two  nights  pleasantly  with  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Callender 
at  the  hospital. 

Tuesday,  October  11. — This  day  I  am  sixty-nine.  My 
grandmother,  Ann  Cull,  died  at  this  age.  I  have  i)remo- 
nitions.  But  I  am  content  to  live  or  die.  It  is  a  great 
thing  to  live  forever.     "Forever  with  the  Lord!" 

Sunday,  December  4. — On  Tuesday,  November  29,  rid- 
ing in  a  buggy  from  Calera  to  Mr.  Watkins's,  in  Chilton 
county,  Alabama,  with  Walter  Oliver,  son  of  Dr.  C.  D. 
Oliver,  the  king-bolt  snapped,  the  horse  went  off  with  the 
fore-wheels,  and  I  was  thrown  head  foremost  on  the  high- 


The  Diary.  303 

way,  and  should  probably  have  been  killed  had  it  not  been 
in  the  sand.  I  was  stunned,  my  left  eye  and  nose  and  left 
fibs  were  hurt,  and  one  glass  of  my  spectacles  broken,  but 
no  bone!  Henry  Oliver  took  me  in  his  buggy  to  Mr. 
AVatkins's,  where  I  spent  the  night.  The  next  morning — 
November  30 — I  married  Walter  to  Miss  Mollie  Walker. 
This  detained  me  so  that  I  did  not  reach  Selma,  where  the 
Alabama  Conference  met,  till  sunset,  thus  missing  the  first 
session.  I  am  comfortably  quartered  at  S.  W.  Johns's.  On 
Friday,  delegates  to  General  Conference  were  elected.  I 
received  a  large  vote,  and  led  the  ticket  on  the  first  ballot. 

Sunday,  January  1,  1882. — Yesterday  we  had  our  New- 
year  festival  at  AVesley  Hall.  It  was  a  grand  occasion. 
Sentiments  in  rhyme  were  offered  by  myself  as  Dean  (Cho- 
rus), and  the  Bishop,  Chancellor,  and  others  responded, 
after  a  sumptuous  dinner.  Bishop  McTyeire  and  Dr.  Gran- 
bery  made  suitable  and  impressive  remarks,  followed  by 
the  Covenant  Hymn  and  prayer,  by  Dr.  Grunbery,  and  the 
New-year's  Ode.  Then  came  mutual  congratulations,  and 
so  began  the  new  year.  May  it  be  an  improvement  on  the 
past!  Dr.  Wilson  preached  in  Vanderbilt  Chapel  this 
afternoon. 

Sunday,  February  19. — This  afternoon,  by  appointment 
of  the  Bishop  and  Faculty,  I  delivered  a  memorial  dis- 
course in  Vanderbilt  Chapel,  on  the  death  of  my  dear 
friend  Bishop  Wightman.     It  will  appear  in  the  Review. 

Sunday,  February  26.  —  I  preached  this  morning  at 
Woodbine,  on  John  xiv.  2;  and  then  took  Dr.  Crook,  of 


304  Br.  Summers. 

Ireland,  home  with  me  from  Elm  Street,  where  he  preached. 
He  preachcfl  an  excellent  sermon  in  the  ChaiHjl  in  the  aft- 
ernoon. He  and  Dr.  McCutcheon  are  in  the  United  States 
collecting  money  for  the  Irish  home  missions.  We  heliied 
them. 

Sundny,  April  9. — I  preached,  by  special  request  of  Dr. 
Young,  at  West  End  Church,  an  Easter  sermon,  on  Mark 
xvi.  9.  I  took  that  text  partly  because  it  is  obelized  by  the 
Bomanists  and  others,  when  it  is  as  sound  as  a  dollar;  and 
partly  because  it  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  restating  the 
dogma  of  the  resurrection  in  opposition  to  the  mythical  and 
other  theories. 

Sunday,  April  23. — I  am  suffering  from  atony.  I  took 
two  hot  Russian  baths  last"  week.  I  am  very  feeble.  But 
I  pray  God  to  restore  my  strength,  and  support  my  totter- 
ing clay  a  little  longer,  for  the  sake  of  the  Church  and  my 
family;  otherwise  I  have  a  desire  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ,  which  is  far  better.  My  old  friend  L.  M.  Lee,  D.D., 
has  just  died,  four  or  fire  years  my  senior.    I  shall  go  soon. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

WEARY    AND    HOMESICK. 

THE  patlios  of  his  last  days  was  most  touch- 
ing. The  immense  vitality  of  the  man 
was  going  rapidly.  The  spur  of  duty  and  the' 
power  of  life-long  habit  kept  him  in  motion, 
but  it  was  plain  that  he  was  failing.  His  step 
became  feebler  and  still  feebler  from  week  to 
week,  and  his  frame  grew  thinner.  A  peculiar 
pallor  was  visible  in  his  face.  The  sonorous 
voice  dwindled,  and  the  bluff,  aggressive  man 
nerwas  subdued  into  a  strange  sort  of  quiet 
"He  won't  live  long,"  was  a  remark  often  made 
when  he  had  left  a  group  of  friends.  There 
was  an  inexpressible  solemn  tenderness  about 
him  at  times.  Coming  into  my  office,  which 
adjoined  his  own,  he  would  take  my  hand  and 
hold  it  silently  while  un fallen  tears  stood  in 
his  eyes. 

"  Fitzgerald,  do  you  love  me?  "  he  demanded 
one  day,  taking  my  hand. 

I  made  the  reply  that  was  in  my  heart,  when 
20  (3051 


306  Dr.  Summers. 


ho  exclaimed:  "Then,  why  don't  you  tell  me 
so?  Tell  me  so  a  dozen  times  a  day  I "  he  con- 
tinued with  intense  energy. 

Such  interviews  became  frequent,  and  the 
shadow  of  the  swift-coming  end  gave  them  a 
.peculiar  sacredness.  He  had  unmistakable 
premonition  that  his  time  was  short. 

Dr.  Summers's  longing  for  rest  and  heaven 
was  inexpressible.  "  Why  could  I  not  go  too?  " 
he  asked  when  the  news  of  the  death  of  Bish- 
op Wightman  reached  him.  It  was  his  one 
theme  in  the  pulpit.  He  went  to  the  First 
Baptist  Church  in  East  Nashville  one  Sunday 
morning.  He  ascended  the  pulpit  steps  fee- 
bly, read,  sung,  and  prayed  of  heaven;  and 
then,  leaning  on  the  desk  before  him,  he  dis- 
coursed of  the  city  of  God  in  a  way  that  melt- 
ed every  heart.  "We  all  cried,"  said  a  Baptist 
lady,  "and  felt  an  indescribable  awe  as  the  old 
Doctor  stood  there  before  us  looking  so  pale 
and  so  feeble,  and  talked  so  sweetly  and  long- 
ingly of  heaven."  At  a  communion  service 
one  Sunday  morning  at  the  West  End  Method- 
odist  Church  the  subject  of  the  sermon  led  the 


Longing  for  Heaven.  307 

preacher  to  speak  of  the  perfection  of  the  glo- 
rified bodies  aud  spirits  of  the  redeemed.  Dr. 
Summers  sat  behind  him  in  the  pulpit,  and 
the  theme  exalted  him  into  a  sort  of  ecstasy. 
He  preceded  the  administration  of  the  sacred 
ordinance  with  an  exhortation  that  thrilled  us 
all.  Exulting  in  a  redemptioji  that  embraced 
both  soul  and  body,  his  face  wore  a  rapt  and 
joyous  look,  and  his  voice  rang  out  like  the 
shout  of  a  victor.  The  venerable  Chancellor 
Garland,  Bishop  McTyeire,  Dr.  Shipp,  Dr. 
Young,  Dr.  (afterward  Bishop)  Granbery,  were 
all  present  on  the  occasion,  and  that  hallowed 
day  will  not  be  forgotten  by  any  of  them. 

"Let  us  talk  about  heaven,"  he  would  say  in 
the  little  intervals  snatched  from  work;  and 
then  his  voice  would  take  a  subdued  tone  and 
his  pallid  face  would  brighten  as  he  spoke  of 
the  things  prepared  by  our  Lord  for  them  that 
love  him.  At  such  times  I  felt  that  I  inhaled 
the  odors  of  paradise  and  caught  the  echoes  of 
its  songs.  He  was  homesick  for  heaven,  and 
as  he  drew  nearer  to  its  gate-way  his  eagerness 
became  absorbing.    At  McKendree  Church  he 


308  Br.  Summers. 


preached  on  the  resurrection — always  a  favor- 
ite theme  with  him — and  it  was  noticed  that 
there  was  less  of  the  polemic  and  more  of  the 
pathetic  element* than  was  usual  with  him  on 
such  occasions.  All  that  is  precious  to  Chris- 
tian hope  in  connection  with  this  glorious  fact 
was  wonderfully  real  to  him.  It  was  evident 
that  no  doubt  cast  the  least  shadow  upon  his 
believing  soul,  and  he  kindled  into  irrepressi- 
ble rapture  when  he  thought  and  spoke  of  per- 
sonal participation  in  the  blessed  realities  that 
he  felt  to  be  so  near  at  hand. 

One  day,  sinking  panting  into  a  chair  after 
climbing  the  stair- way  leading  up  to  my  oflSce 
in  the  Publishing  House,  he  said,  "I  wish  I 
was  in  heaven!" 

"No,  Doctor,  we  need  you  here  awhile  long- 
er," I  said,  taking  his  proffered  hand. 

He  sat  by  me  silent  some  moments,  and  then 
spoke  as  if  to  himself:  "My  tasks  are  about 
finished,  and  I  know  it.  I  have  had  constant 
joy  in  my  work,  but  my  joy  now  is  in  the  thought 
of  rest— rest— rest!" 

The  weight  of  a  great  solicitude  for  one  near 


On  Jesus.  309 

and  dear  to  him  had  long  pressed  upon  his 
heart.  He  had  prayed  and  wept  and  agonized 
in  spirit.  Now  he  had  been  able  by  a  mighty 
faith  to  cast  his  burden  on  Jesus  —  having 
found  it  too  heavy  for  his  own  strength — and 
he  longed  to  go  up  and  be  forever  with  the 
Lord.  The  song  that  was  so  often  on  the  lips 
of  Bishop  Marvin  was  in  his  heart: 

O  bear  my  longing  heart  to  Him 

Who  bled  and  died  for  me, 
Whose  blood  now  cleanses  from  all  sin, 

And  gives  me  victory  1 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

HIS  SORROWS— THE  MYSTERY. 

THE  shadow  of  orphanage  was  upon  liis 
life  at  the  start.  The  shadow  of  pain 
or  of  sorrow  was  on  his  path  all  along.  Exu- 
berant in  vitality  as  he  was,  he  was  not  exempt- 
ed from  the  operation  of  the  inevitable  and 
universal  law  of  suffering.  The  under-tone 
of  sorrow  that  mingled  with  his  earliest  boyish 
shouts  never  wholly  ceased  until  that  morning 
when  the  many-stringed  harp  was  broken  to 
be  restrung  and  retuned  in  a  brighter  and  hap- 
pier sphere  than  this. 

We  have  seen  how  this  man,  by  a  subtle  in- 
stinct, knew  the  heart  of  sorrow,  and  found 
his  way  where  it  was  bleeding  and  breaking. 
We  have  seen  how  when  the  dead  were  to  be 
buried  and  the  mourner  to  be  comforted  his 
presence  was  always  welcome.  There  wtis  no 
jar  in  the  tones  of  his  voice  on  such  occasions, 
because  it  had  been  tuned  to  the  same  sad  key 
with  that  of  the  mourner.  He  had  gone  down 
(310J 


The  Mystery.  311 


into  the  same  black  depths,  and  out  of  the  dark- 
ness had  lifted  his  cry  to  God.  The  crash  of 
sudden  calamity  had  laid  him  prostrate  and 
quivering  at  the  feet  of  the  Father  in  heaven, 
whose  ways  are  past  finding  out,  and  whose 
love  to  his  children  does  not  save  them  from 
the  bitterness  of  Gethsemane  and  the  agony  of 
Calvary.  When  the  sky  seemed  clear  his  hopes 
were  shivered  in  a  moment  by  a  lightning- 
stroke.  And  he  had  to  lie  down  and  die  at 
last  of  a  broken  heart,  with  the  intercessory 
prayer  of  his  life  unanswered. 

The  mystery  of  it  all  who  can  fathom?  The 
Lord  chasteneth  whom  he  loveth  —  yea,  he 
scourgeth  such  as  he  receiveth  into  closest 
fellowship.  The  vicarious  element  in  the  suf- 
ferings of  holy  men  and  women  may  not  be 
comprehended  by  us  until  we  shall  ascend  td 
the  sphere  where  we  shall  no  longer  see  through 
a  glass  darkly.  There  will  then  be  disclosures 
that  will  bring  glad  surprises  to  many  souls 
that  still  trusted  and  clung  to  God  when  the 
heart-strings  were  cracking  under, the  strain  of 
unspeakable  anguish.     There  are  hints — only 


312  Dr.  Summers. 


hints,  but  luminous  and  uplifting— K)f  a  law  of 
compensation  operating  at  this  point  that  will 
make  all  eternity  a  joy  to  those  who  havc^ 
borne  the  heaviest  crosses  here.  They  will 
share  in  a  special  sense  the  joy,  as  they  had 
shared  in  a  special  sense  the  agony,  of  their 
Lord-  Clouds  and  darkness  envelop  the  plan 
and  method  of  the  almighty  and  all-gracious 
God.  But  behind  the  clouds  his  face  is  al- 
ways shining  with  unchanging  glory.  We  wait 
for  the  day  when  the  veil  shall  be  lifted  and 
we  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  Then  we  shall  be 
satisfied.  fSatisfied?  That  is  a  great  word, 
far  beyond  our  present  comprehension.  O 
Father,  we  will  trust  and  wait! 

To  Dr.  Summers  and  his  wife  four  children 
were  born — one  son  and  three  daughters.  The 
daughters  all  died  early — all  suddenly,  and 
two  of  them  tragically.  The  eldest,  Sarah 
Havelland,  named  for  the  beloved  aunt  whose 
brief  memorial  is  to  be  found  in  the  earlier 
pages  of  this  book,  was  a  brilliant  and  loving 
child,  filling  the  home  with  music  and  sun- 
shine.    She  was   a  precocious   girl,   having 


The  Little  Sixger.  313 

learned  to  read  and  write  when  she  was  but  a 
little  more  than  three  years  old.  A  charming 
and  touching  picture  is  given  of  the  bright- 
eyed,  high-browed  child  when  five  or  six  years 
old  sitting  with  her  father  in  the  library  read- 
ing "  copy  "  for  him  while  he  was  reading  proof 
She  was  a  sweet  singer,  and  filled  the  house 
with  the  melody  of  her  songs.  Such  precocity 
is  always  perilous — the  flame  that  burns  with 
such  intensity  usually  burns  out  quickly.  The 
mental  and  spiritual  forces  within  are  too 
strong  for  the  outward  frame,  and  so  it  often 
happens  that  at  the  first  rude  attack  of  dis- 
ease the  frail  walls  crumble  and  the  soul  breaks 
its  way  to  the  world  of  spirits.  So  when  the 
finely  organized  girl,  whose  brain-development 
so  far  outstripped  the  physical,  was  stricken 
with  sickness,  it  was  soon  apparent  that  she 
must  die.  "  She  was  a  child  of  song,"  said  her 
father;  "and  though  not  able  to  sing  herself 
away,  when  the  time  of  her  departure  came, 
she  caused  the  fatal  night  to  be  nearly  taken 
up  in  the  singing  of  Mr.  Wesley's  seraphic 
hymns,  by  the  Christian  friends  that  were 


314  Dr.  Summers. 


around  her  bed."  And  so  she  closed  her  eyes 
for  a  moment  to  open  them  again  in  paradise; 
and  while  yet  the  voice  of  holy  song  lingered 
in  the  chamber  where  the  little  sufferer  died, 
her  spirit  caught  the  music  of  heaven  as  she 
passed  through  the  gates  into  the  city  of  God. 
The  other  two  daughters  —  Clara  Watkins 
and  Virginia  Hannah — were  of  the  same  at-- 
tractive  type,  though  differing  in  individuality. 
The  former  was  drowned  by  accidentally  fall- 
ing into  a  reservoir  in  Nashville,  at  the  age  of 
eleven.  "A  precious  child,"  says  her  mother; 
"we  used  to  call  her  our  poetess.  Sallie  could 
sing  so  sweetly.  Clara  would  try  so  hard  to 
sing,  and  then  would  look  into  her  father's  face, 
and  ask,  'Is  it  like  my  sister?'  AVe  still  had 
Tommie  and  my  baby,  our  third  daughter,  Vir- 
ginia, born  in  Charleston  after  Sallie's  death. 
She  looked  very  much  like  her,  and  was  a  sun- 
beam in  our  household.  Our  hearts  clung  to 
this  frail  little  flower.  I  begged  God  to  spare 
this  one — but  no;  he  saw  fit  to  take  her  too — 
O  how  tragically!  She  was  eleven  when  she 
died.    This  dear  little  girl  was  killed  by  fall- 


The  Bitterest  Cup.  315 

ing  from  a  pony  while  riding  for  amusement 
with  her  playmates  in  Tuscaloosa."  In  the 
notes  from  which  these  sad  words  are  taken  as 
they  poured  forth  from  a  broken-hearted  moth- 
er, these  words  are  added:  "I  think,  Doctor, 
you  know  enough  of  my  husband  to  realize 
what  his  home-life  must  have  been — so  beau- 
tiful. He  enjoyed  his  children,  and  they  wor- 
shiped him." 

The  shock,  the  heart-sickness,  the  agony  that 
was  felt  when  these  children  died — their  child- 
ish prattle  suddenly  hushed,  and  the  patter  of 
the  dear  feet  to  be  heard  no  more — may  be 
known  only  to  such  as  have  tasted  the  same 
bitter,  bitter  cup. 

Did  we  call  it  a  bitter  cup?  So  it  was,  but 
it  was  not  the  bitterest.  The  bitterest  grief  is 
not  for  the  innocent  or  holy  dead — not  for  the 
children  who  are  snatched  suddenly  from  our 
arms  or  pass  gently  and  slowly  into  the  skies. 
No,  not  for  these  are  shed  the  tears  of  bitter- 
est grief,  but  for  the  living  who  get  tangled  in 
life's  labyrinth  and  lose  their  way ;  for  the  living 
who  in  life's  battle  cast  away  the  shield  of  faith 


316  Dr.  Summers. 


and  lose  the  fight;  for  the  living  who  live  on 
through  the  darkening  years,  receding  and  still 
receding  farther  from  light  and  hope  until,  by 
contrast,  death  in  childhood  would  seem  the 
richest  boon  the  hand  of  Heavenly  Mercy  could 
bestow. 

The  undoubting,  realizing  faith  of  Dr.  Sum- 
mers was  of  unspeakable  comfort  to  him  in 
these  sorrowful  experiences.  His  home  was 
lonely,  and  his  heart  yearned  for  the  clasp  of 
the  little  arms  and  the  music  of  the  little 
voices  gone.  On  the  return  of  every  anniver- 
sary of  their  death  his  diary  made  mention  of 
them.  "To-day  Clara,  had  she  lived,  would 
have  been  twenty  years  old — how  old  is  she  in 
heaven?"  he  wrote  fourteen  years  after  the 
child  had  been  buried.  His  annual  Easter 
sermon  on  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  caught 
its  under -tone  from  his  memories  of  the 
dead,  and  its  glow  from  the  unclouded  hope 
that  he  would  see  them  again.  That  expecta- 
tion has  been  fulfilled.  Who  can  picture  the 
meeting? 

Why  good  men  should  thus  suffer,  and  that 


The  Culmination  of  Grace.        317 

the  best  should  often  seem  to  suffer  most  in 
this  life,  is  the  old  question  not  to  be  fully  an- 
swered now.  Suffering  in  such  cases  seems  to 
be  measured  by  the  capacity  of  the  sufferers. 

The  sign  of  rank  in  nature 

Is  capacity  for  pain ; 
And  the  anguisli  of  the  singer 

Makes  the  sweetness  of  the  strain. 

Every  nerve  seems  to  be  strung  for  bodily  tort- 
ure; every  quivering  heart-string  is  bruised 
and  torn  by  mental  anguish.  We  cannot  help 
asking,  Why  is  it  so?  We  see  thus  far  even 
now:  Under  this  discipline  the  soul  takes  on  a 
new  feature  of  Christ-likeness  to  be  attained 
in  no  other  way,  and  it  is  seen  that  a  human 
heart  may  break  and  yet  not  loose  its  hold  on 
Christ.  It  is  the  culmination  of  grace,  finding 
its  only  adequate  expression  in  the  sublime 
afiirmation  of  the  peeled,  broken,  yet  unyield- 
ing old  Emir:  "Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  1 
trust  in  him." 

This  is  the  whole — a  mystery  unsolved,  and 
a  faith  that  never  failed.  Immortality  will 
unfold  the  rest. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  GOAL  REACHED. 
"TTTHERE  is  Dr.  Summers?"  was  the 
V  V  inquiry  from  many  lips  when  it  was 
noticed  that  he  was  not  in  his  usual  place  at 
the  afternoon  service  in  the  chapel  of  Vander- 
bilt  University  one  Sunday  afternoon.  He  was 
too  sick  to  come.  A  thrill  of  tender  emotion 
Wf'is  felt  by  all,  for  they  knew  that  great  in- 
deed must  be  the  disability  that  kept  him  away. 
The  sense  that  something  was  lacking  was  op- 
pressive— the  familiar  voice,  the  benignant  face, 
the  inevitable  exhortation,  had  been  for  years 
the  accompaniment  of  almost  every  service 
there.  The  students  had  sometimes  felt  will- 
ing to  dispense  with  the  exhortation  after  some 
voluminous  visitor  had  kept  them  listening  too 
long  to  an  ambitious  string  of  platitudes,  but 
now  they  missed  the  fatherly  presence  and  lov- 
ing words.  He  had  been  so  l6ng  the  master 
of  religious  ceremonies,  and  had  so  worthily 
magnified  his  oiTice,  tliat  it  seemed  to  be  out 

(318) 


Working  While  it  Was  Day.       319 

of  order  to  proceed  Avhen  he  was  uot  in  his 
usual  place. 

He  still  lectured  to  his  classes,  but  he  had  to 
be  helped  to  and  from  his  lecture-room.  Lean- 
ing upon  the  willing  arms  of  a  theologue  on 
either  side,  he  would  wearily  mount  the  steps 
of  Wesley  Hall,  and  after  delivering  his  lect- 
ure would  have  almost  to  be  lifted  and  carried 
back  to  his  house  to  lie  down  panting  and  ex- 
hausted by  the  effort. 

He  was  still  editing  the  Quarterly  Bevieu;  and 
his  literary  activity  seemed  to  increase  as  his 
bodily  strength  failed.  He  crowded  the  print- 
ers with  "copy"  of  his  own  production,  and 
astonished  his  readers  by  the  quantity,  excel- 
lence, and  variety  of  his  contributions.  The 
truth  probably  is  that,  having  a  solemn  pre- 
monition that  his  time  was  short,  he  hastened 
to  print  his  long-matured  views  upon  questions 
of  special  interest  to  him.  The  Atonement, 
the  Resurrection,  Sanctification,  the  Unity  of 
the  Human  Race,  all  passed  under  review,  and 
elicited  clear,  strong,  outspoken  expression 
from  him.     It  was  a  little  amusing  to  notice 


320  Dr.  Summers. 


the  intensity  of  his  feeling  with  regard  to 
some  of  the  minor  questions  that  were  being 
discussed  in  the  religious  world.  If,  in  one 
or  two  instances,  his  vehemence  was  in  the 
inverse  ratio  to  the  importance  of  the  mat- 
ters under  consideration,  it  was  owing  to 
the  fact  that  they  were  thrust  directly  upon 
his  attention.  It  was  noticed  that  there 
was  unusual  intensity  in  all  his  controversial 
utterances  just  at  this  time.  The  explanation 
is  perhaps  to  be  found  in  the  excitability  re- 
sulting from  the  state  of  his  health.  His 
nerve-centers  were  rapidly  breaking  down,  and 
any  emotion,  whether  agreeable  or  otherwise, 
mastered  him.  This  was  pleasantly  yet  pa- 
thetically illustrated  at  one  of  the  religious 
services  in  the  University  Chapel  not  long  be- 
fore the  time  of  which  we  are  now  speaking. 
A  sermon  had  been*  preached  by  a  visitor  on 
the  fulfillment  of  the  promise  of  the  Pentecost. 
The  theme  stirred  him  mightily,  and  in  clos- 
ing the  service  he  exhorted  with  startling  en- 
ergy and  eloquence.  "The  whole  Trinity  is 
mine!"  he  exclaimed  with  rapture,  pacing  the 


His  Preparatory  Pentecost.      321 

platform  with  glowing  face;  "the  Father,  the 
Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  are  mine!  The  bless- 
ings of  creation,  preservation,  and  redemption 
are  mine!  All  the  promises  of  the  Pentecost 
are  mine!  Grace  and  glory  are  mine!"  And 
so  he  went  on  with  increasing  intensity.  The 
Pentecostal  afflatus  was  upon  him.  His  cher- 
ished friend,  the  venerable  Chancellor  Garland, 
sat  and  listened  with  sympathetic  religious  joy, 
but  saddened  with  the  assurance  that  the  flame 
burning  so  brightly  was  so  soon  to  be  quenched. 
The  wave  of  exultant  joy  on  which  he  was  up- 
lifted rolled  over  the  audience;  a  devout  old 
English  Methodist  near  the  chancel  "Amened" 
with  unreserved  emphasis;  and  for  a  little 
while  the  Vanderbilt  University  Chapel  was 
like  an  old-time  camp-meeting  in  the  hills. 
The  resident  Bishop,  the  learned  and  dignified 
Professors,  the  students  in  theology,  science, 
law,  and  letters,  and  the  whole  auditory  of 
Christian  worshipers,  sat  together  in  heavenly 
places  in  Christ  Jesus.  This  was  perhaps  the 
last  time  Dr.  Summers  closed  a  service  at  the 

University  Chapel.     The  baptism  that  fell  on 
21 


322  Db.  Summers. 


him  was  preparatory  to  the  higher  things  that 
were  waiting  for  him  beyond. 

The  General  Conference  met.  Rallying  all 
his  strength,  he  appeared  in  his  place  as  a  del- 
egate from  his  well-beloved  Alabama  Confer- 
ence, being  at  the  head  of  the  delegation.  He 
was  reelected  to  the  office  of  Secretary  by  ac- 
clamation, though  it  was  plain  enough  that 
other  hands  must  do  the  work.  When  he  took 
his  seat  at  the  desk,  a  thrill  of  surprise  and 
sorrow  pervaded  the  body.  The  shrunken 
form,  the  lusterless  eyes,  the  shriveled  features, 
the  ghastly  hue  of  the  face,  shocked  them.  "Was 
this  the  quick,  energetic,  extra-vital,  strong- 
voiced,  perpetually  -  moving  Dr.  Summers? 
There  was  a  choking  sensation  in  the  throats 
of  many  of  his  old  friends  at  that  apparition. 
But,  like  an  old  war-horse  at  the  sound  of  the 
bugle,  he  seemed  to  gather  strength  from  the 
inspiration  of  the  occasion,  and  entered  upon 
his  secretarial  duties  with  a  vigor  that  was  as- 
tonishing to  those  who  knew  his  real  condition. 
He  passed  through  the  first  day  of  the  session 
with  success,  having  the  ready  and  loving  as- 


*'Let  Us  Talk  of  Heaven"        323 

sistance  of  Drs.  Martin,  Vincil,  and  Lef  fcwich. 
He  was  at  his  post  the  second  day  with  eye  and 
ear  attent  to  all  that  transpired.  About  eleven 
o'clock  A.M.,  as  he  sat  at  the  table,  a  strange 
look  came  into  his  eyes,  and  his  countenance 
changed.  He  rose  with  difficulty  and  retired 
to  the  little  ante-room  in  the  rear  of  the  ros- 
trum. In  a  few  moments  I  followed  him,  feeling 
anxious  about  him.  He  was  lying  on  a  lounge 
that  had  been  placed  in  the  room,  and  seemed 
to  be  a  dying  man — as  indeed  he  was.  Liter- 
ally he  fell  at  his  post,  as  he  fondly  wished  to 
do.  As  he  lay  there  panting  for  breath,  there 
was  something  about  him  that  struck  me  with 
a  sort  of  awe.  His  eyes  had  that  look  of  see- 
ing Something  Beyond,  and  there  was  an  illu- 
mination in  his  face.  He  turned  as  I  entered 
the  room,  and  said:  "Come,  get  down  here  by 
me,  and  let  us  talk  of  heaven." 

I  knelt  by  him.  Putting  his  hand  in  mine, 
he  began  a  monologue  on  heaven.  His  words 
were  strangely  beautiful  and  thrilling.  His 
eyes  were  looking  upward,  and  the  light  on  his 
face  was  reflected  from  the  heaven  of  which  he 


324  Dr.  Summers. 


spoke.  God  was  present,  and  his  faithful  serv- 
ant was  receiving  his  baptism  from  above  for 
the  final  hour  so  near  at  hand.  The  season  was 
holy,  and  its  memory  will  be  sweet  until  I  meet 
my  dear  and  honored  friend  where  faith  is  lost 
in  sight.  When  he  had  finished,  he  said:  "  If 
you  write  my  life,  put  that  in." 

Ah!  if  I  only  could  reproduce  those  last 
words  as  they  fell  from  his  pallid  lips,  many  a 
heart  would  be  quickened  in  its  longings  for 
the  home  of  the  soul  in  the  city  of  God. 

That  was  the  death-stroke,  and  yet  it  was 
hard  to  believe  it.  Dr.  D.  C  Kelley,  who  had 
noticed  the  change  that  had  come  upon  him, 
took  him  home  in  a  buggy,  supporting  the  al- 
most insensible  sufierer  in  his  arms.  He  was 
lifted  from  the  vehicle  and  carried  upstairs  to 
his  bed-chamber.  The  doctors  came  and  felt 
his  pulse,  looked  at  his  tongue,  and  conferred 
with  grave  faces.  They  saw  that  the  end  was 
near.  He  knew  it  too,  and  was  glad.  I  went 
out  to  see  him  on  the  afternoon  of  next  day. 
He  was  very  weak,  and  sinking.  His  wife  sat 
weeping  by  the  bedside.  Chancellor  Garland, 


The  Last  Prayer.  325 

Judge  P.  G.  Wood,  of  Florence,  Alabama,  and 
others,  were  present.  He  greeted  me  with  a 
smile,  and  held  my  hand  in  a  prolonged  clasp. 
Mrs.  Summers  requested  me  to  pray  with  him. 
Bending  over  him,  I  said:  "  Doctor,  do  you  wish 
me  to  pray  with  you?  and  have  you  strength 
to  join  in  the  prayer?" 

"0£  course  I  do — of  course  I  can!"  he  said 
with  no  little  of  his  peculiar  heartiness  of  tone 
and  manner.  He  was  perfectly  lucid,  and  his 
sinking  energies  rallied  at  the  call  to  prayer. 

We  knelt  by  his  bedside  and  prayed.  His 
voice  was  heard  at  first  in  fervent  responses  to 
the  petitions  that  went  up  to  God  from  that 
circle  whose  souls  and  bodies  were  bowed 
around  his  couch.  Then  all  was  silent  save 
the  voice  that  led  in  prayer  and  the  smothered 
sobs  of  the  grief -stricken  wife.  When  we 
arose,  he  was  lying  on  his  side,  his  eyes  closed, 
with  an  expression  of  serene  peace  on  his  face. 
That  prayer  was  his  last  conscious  act  on  earth. 
He  never  opened  his  eyes  again  in  this  world. 
About  nine  o'clock,  as  he  thus  lay  unconscious, 
the  songs  of  the  young  men  at  Wesley  Hall 


326  Dr.  Summers. 


came  floating  into  the  chamber  on  the  night- 
air — the  songs  of  Zion  he  loved  so  well.  He 
stirred  and  half  lifted  his  hands,  and  whispered 
the  words,  "Faith,  faith,  faith! "  Those  words 
were  the  very  last — he  spoke  no  more.  All 
night  long  we  sat  and  watched  with  him — his 
wife,  his  son,  Mrs.  Humphrey,  his  physicians, 
Dr.  Kelley,  Judge  Wood,  and  myself.  The 
pulse  beat  faster  and  faster,  but  weaker  and 
weaker — life  was  going  out  with  the  darkness. 
There  was  no  conscious  sufiering,  as  the  doctors 
kindly  told  us,  but  the  tragedy  of  death  was 
there — the  groans,  the  tossings,  the  labored 
breathing,  the  heaving  chest,  the  glazing  eye — 
the  breaking  up  of  the  tabernacle  in  which 
dwelt  a  great  soul.  The  day  dawned,  the  light 
streamed  in  through  the  window  that  opened 
to  the  south,  the  birds  began  to  sing  their 
morning  songs.  A  sudden  change  came  over 
the  dying  man — the  form  straightened  upon 
the  bed,  the  hands  crossed  themselves  upon 
the  breast,  the  features  sunk  into  an  expression 
of  perfect  repose — we  fell  on  our  knees,  saying: 
"Lord  Jesus,  receive  the  parting  spirit!    liord 


All  is  Over.  327 

Jesus,  bless  the  living!" — and  all  was  over. 
Dr.  Summers  was  dead.  The  birds  kept  up 
their  song  in  the  branches  of  the  maples  and 
elms  outside.  t=. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  MAN. 

THE  life-work  of  Dr.  Summers  has  been 
outlined  in  some  sort  in  these  pages. 
The  personality  of  the  man  has  been  incident- 
ally exhibited,  and  the  peculiar  flavor  of  his 
individuality  indicated.  The  pen-picture  cor- 
responding to  the  original  would  be  that  of  a 
medium-sized  mai»,  about  five  feet  seven  inches 
high,  straight,  full-chested,  square-shouldered; 
walking  with  a  quick,  ^dgorous  gait,  head  thrown 
back,  a  look  of  inquiry  and  self-assertion,  with 
a  lurking  humor  in  the  grayish-blue  eyes  be- 
hind his  spectacles;  small,  perfectly  formed 
liands  and  feet;  the  sub-pallid  complexion  so 
common  among  scholarly  men;  features  every 
one  of  which  seemed  to  speak  when  animated, 
but  wearing  a  thoughtful  and  rather  sad  ex- 
pression in  repose;  a  mouth  that  had  in  it  at 
once  the  dogmatic  challenge  and  the  friendly 
overture;  a  chin  needing  the  iron-gray  whiskers 
covering  it  to  give  it  a  positiveness  suited  to 

(.T2S) 


His  Memory.  329 


the  general  expression  of  the  face;  a  Grecian 
nose;  eyebrows  not  heavy,  and  but  slightly 
arched;  a  head  whose  contour  and  lofty  dome 
were  worthy  of  the  strong  and  active  brain 
within ;  thin,  gray  hair,  of  singularly  fine  text- 
ure— the  whole  look  and  tone  making  the  im- 
pression that  here  is  a  man  who  has  thought, 
suffered,  and  prayed  much,  and  labored  hard, 
and  who  had  come  forth  from  his  vigils,  griefs, 
and  toils  chastened,  sweet-fouled,  and  strong. 
This  is  the  image  left  by  him  when  he  had  de- 
veloped to  his  full  intellectual  and  spiritual 
stature,  and  before  the  days  of  weakness  and 
pain  had  come  to  him  as  he  stood  amid  the 
shadows  before  the  breaking  of  the  day. 

He  had  a  marvelous  memory,  but  it  would 
be  a  gross  mis  judgment  to  affirm  that  this  was 
his  richest  gift.  Other  men  have  had  pro- 
digious memories  with  no  benefit  resulting  to 
themselves  or  to  the  world.  Dr.  Summers 
used  his  memory  to  good  purpose;  he  hunted 
for  jewels  rather  than  rubbish  to  commit  to  its 
keeping.  He  coveted  the  best  gifts  in  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge,  even  the  knowledge  of 


330  Dr.  Summers. 


GckI  and  of  his  way  of  salvation  for  mankind. 
To  the  lofty  and  sacred  uses  of  the  ministry 
of  the  gospel  he  consecrated  this  faculty  with 
which  ho  was  so  richly  endowed. 

Few  men  in  the  history  of  the  Church  have 
equaled  him  in  soundness  of  judgment.  He 
knew  when  and  how  to  employ  the  treasures 
stored  in  his  mind.  There  might  be  a  sem- 
blance of  pedantry  to  the  ordinary  hearer  or 
reader,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  perversity  or 
stupidity  in  the  use  made  by  him  of  his  learn- 
ing. His  judgments  as  well  as  his  facts  could 
be  trusted.  He  had  great  respect  for  recog- 
nized authorities,  and  was  a  genuine  conserva- 
tive in  the  good  sense  of  that  much-abused 
word;  but  he  weighed  every  thing  in  the  bal- 
ances of  his  own  mind.  He  kept  the  middle 
current  of  common  sense  so  uniformly  that  he 
was  regarded  by  the  whole  Methodist  world  as 
a  safe  and  trusted  guardian,  exponent,  and  de- 
fender of  Wesleyan  theology,  and  enjoyed  the 
respect  of  the  best  men  of  other  Communions. 

The  criticism  has  been  made,  not  unkindly, 
that  he  originated   nothing  as  a  theological 


Not  a  Jack-with-a-lantern.       331 

teacher  and  author.  This  is  certainly  true. 
No  one  would  have  more  readily  conceded  the 
fact  than  himself.  He  felt  that  he  had  no 
function  as  an  inventor  or  revamper  of  theol- 
ogy— he  made  no  effort  in  that  direction.  When 
he  settled  a  question,  it  staid  settled  for  him, 
and  was  no  longer  open  for  doubt  or  debate  in 
his  own  mind.  He  followed  the  well-trodden 
path,  believing  that  it  was  the  right  one.  As 
a  guide  to  others  he  thought  it  better  to  lead 
where  the  way-marks  were  plain,  and  where 
others  had  traveled  securely  and  reached  the 
goal,  than  to  seek  the  reputation  of  a  path- 
finder at  the  risk  of  losing  his  way  and  leading 
others  astray.  To  him  the  Bible  was  an  in- 
spired book  all  through,  and  the  interpretation 
given  it  by  the  standards  of  Wesleyan  Meth- 
odism were  satisfactory  and  conclusive.  He 
was  no  Jack-with-a-lantern  flashing  a  fitful 
light  among  the  marshes  of  speculative  theol- 
ogy and  loose  Biblical  construction,  but  a  light- 
house on  a  stormy  coast  to  warn  the  navigator 
of  the  troubled  sea  of  modern  religious  thought 
of  the  rocks  and  reefs  of  error  and  show  the 


332  Dr.  Summers. 


entrance  to  the  quiet  harbor  of  orthodoxy. 
We  may  call  him  a  little  narrow  if  we  choose 
to  do  so,  but  that  would  not  disturb  him  were 
he  with  us  still.  He  did  not  profess  or  wish  to 
be  broader  than  the  standards  of  his  Church. 
He  looked  upon  theology  as  an  explicit  revela- 
tion adapted  to  the  comprehension  and  de- 
manding the  acceptance  of  the  masses  of  man- 
kind rather  than  as  a  progressive  science.  His 
conservatism  was  not  another  name  for  timid- 
ity—no man  was  bolder  in  the  maintenance  of 
the  truth  as  he  felt  it  to  be  binding  on  his 
judgment  and  conscience.  He  was  not  an  ex- 
plorer— he  was  a  guide,  stout-hearted,  clear- 
sighted, sure-footed. 

He  was  a  thoroughly  consecrated  man.  His 
eye  was  single.  From  the  day  he  gave  him- 
self to  the  work  of  the  Christian  ministry  there 
was  no  deflection  from  the  straight  line  of 
continuous  and  unstinted  service.  There  was 
no  waste  of  energy  or  loss  of  time  in  making 
money,  pursuit  of  mere  literary  fame,  or  in 
any  secular  or  semi-secular  engagements.  His 
vocation  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel  filled  the 


A  Holy  Man.  333 


measure  of  his  aspiration  and  called  forth  all 
the  powers  and  enthusiasm  of  his  nature.  He 
looked  right  onward  as  he  moved  forward  in 
his  chosen  path,  casting  no  lingering,  half- 
regretful  glances  backward  upon  the  things  he 
had  renounced  in  taking  upon  himself  the  sa- 
cred vows  of  his  high  calling.  This  unre- 
served consecration  of  his  life  and  concentra- 
tion of  his  powers  to  one  work  was  an  element 
of  the  true  greatness  of  the  man,  and  a  condi- 
dition  of  his  success  worthy  of  special  consid- 
eration by  many  who  will  read  these  pages. 

He  was  a  holy  man.  He  prayed  much  in 
secret,  and  carried  with  him  everjrwhere  that 
unmistakable  aroma  of  true  sanctity  character- 
istic of  all  persons  who  are  often  in  commun- 
ion with  God.  He  was  pure-minded,  and  pure 
in  speech.  The  man  is  not  living  who  ever 
heard  him  utter  an  unclean  expression  or  one 
bordering  on  profanity.  Back  of  the  badinage 
in  which  he  often  indulged  with  intimate 
friends  there  was  the  Christian  temper  that 
dominated  in  all  he  said  and  did.  So  con- 
stantly was  he  tuned  for  devotion  and  Chris- 


334  J)r,  Summers. 


tian  work  that  all  who  knew  him  felt  intaitively 
that  he  was  at  all  times  ready  for  religious 
sympathy,  counsel,  or  service.  His  lamp  was 
kept  trimmed  and  burning.  He  held  in  theo- 
ry to  the  strong  views  of  Wesley  and  Fletcher 
concerning  Christian  holiness,  and  he  dared 
not  live  below  his  belief. 

His  friendships  were  ardent.  The  first  im- 
pression made  by  him  upon  strangers  was  usu- 
ally unfavorable.  His  manner  repelled,  but  it 
took  not  long  to  see  the  man  as  he  was.  By 
the  operation  of  the  law  of  reaction  he  was 
perhaps  assigned  a  higher  place  because  of  the 
first  misjudgment.  A  liking  for  Dr.  Summers 
with  some  was  like  the  taste  of  some  persons 
for  olives — an  acquired  taste,  but  most  decided 
and  lasting.  He  was  a  good  man  and  a  true 
man,  and  the  good  and  true  recognized  in  him 
the  qualities  which  bind  all  such  in  the  bonds 
of  a  sacred  and  indissoluble  fellowship.  In 
Maryland,  Virginia,  South  Carolinp,  Alabama, 
Texas,  and  Tennessee,  he  formed  personal 
friendships  that  were  most  hallowed,  tender, 
and  lasting;  and  by  his  contact  with  the  Church 


His  Burial.  335 

as  a  preacher  and  writer  he  drew  to  him  a  still 
wider  circle  that  loved  the  man  as  fully  as  they 
trusted  the  theologian. 

Measured  by  all  right  standards — by  the 
vastness  of  his  mental  acquisitions,  the  ability 
and  abundance  of  his  labors  as  a  preacher,  the 
quantity  and  quality  of  his  writings,  the  im- 
mense work  done  by  him  in  the  editing  and 
revision  of  books  and  periodicals,  his  service 
in  behalf  of  Christian  education,  the  powerful 
religious  influence  that  was  like  a  continual 
emanation  from  his  strong  and  aggressive, 
glowing  personality — Dr.  Summers  was  worthy 
of  the  high  place  he  held  in  the  love  and  ad- 
miration of  his  contemporaries;  and  if  he  does 
not  hold  a  place  among  the  men  of  this  gen- 
eration whom  posterity  will  delight  to  honor, 
the  cause  may  be  found  in  the  short-comings 
of  his  biographer  rather  than  the  merits  of  the 
subject. 

The  funeral  of  Dr.  Summers  was  such  as  he 
would  have  chosen.  He  loved  the  Church,  and 
he  loved  all  Christian  people;  and  he  prized 
the  reciprocal  affection  accorded  to  him.     All 


336  Db.  Summers. 


was  ordered  as  he  would  have  chosen.  The 
day  was  bright  and  fair;  the  whole  Church, 
through  its  Connectional  officers  and  represent- 
atives in  the  General  Conference,  was  present; 
a  vast  sorrowing  concourse  crowded  and  over- 
flowed the  spacious  Chapel,  grief  pictured  in 
every  face,  and  many  eyes  wet  with  tears.  The 
Chapel  was  draped  in  mourning,  and  a  profu- 
sion of  flowers,  the  oflferings  of  Christian  af- 
fection, were  laid  upon  the  bier — among  the 
rest  a  floral  anchor  of  exquisite  beauty  and 
large  proportions  from  the  congregation  of  the 
Second  Presbyterian  Church,  of  Nashville, 
whose  pulpit  he  had  so  often  served,  and  by 
whom  he  was  greatly  beloved. 

The  funeral  discourse  was  delivered  by  Bish- 
op J.  C.  Keener.  It  was  worthy  of  the  occa- 
sion. It  fittingly  concludes  these  pages.  The 
discriminating  reader  will  not  fail  to  see  its 
happy  correlation  with  that  of  Dr.  Summers 
on  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord,  on  page  215. 
The  Kesurrection — The  Ascension:  this  is  the 
glad  consummation. 


THE  ASCENSION  OF  OUR  LORD. 

(Discourse  by  Bishop  J.  C.  Keener,  at  the  Funeral  of  Dr. 
T.  0.  Sumnners,  delivered  in  the  Chapel  of  Vanderbilt 
University,  on  Sunday  afternoon,  May  7,  1882.) 


"And  he  T^d  Ihem  out  as  far  as  to  Bethany,  and  he  lifted  up  hia 
hands,  and  blessed  them.  And  it  came  to  pass,  while  he  blessed 
them,  he  was  parted  from  them,  and  carried  up  into  heaven.  And 
they  worshiped  him,  and  returned  to  Jerusalem  with  great  joy; 
and  were  continually  in  the  temple,  praising  and  blessing  God." 
Luke  xxiv.  5(>-53. 

My  Brethren:  I  come  this  day  to  bury  a  good  man; 
to  place  on  his  bier  a  tribute  of  affection  woven  by  your 
hands — in  honor  of  one  whom  we  have  all  known  and 
loved;  a  man  by  nature  of  buoyant  spirit,  of  sprightly 
mind,  and  of  wondrous  capacity  for  continuous  mental  ap- 
plication; who,  in  his  early  manhood  was  converted,  and 
set  apart  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  the  work  of  the  ministry; 
upon  whom,  while  engaged  in  this  work,  the  providence  of 
God  laid  many  heart-breaking  sorrows;  who,  under  their 
severest  pressure,  was  supplied  with  sustaining  grace,  and 
with  increasing  measures  of  the  divine  love,  until  his  nat- 
ure, cast  and  recast,  at  length  glowed  with  the  luster  of  his 
Lord,  when,  on  yesterday,  he  was  translated  to  that  assem- 
bly 

Where  every  .shining  front  displays 
The  unutterable  name. 

In  the  language  of  the  great  Wesleyan  theologian :  "  The 
22  (337) 


338  Ds.  Summers. 


sacred  graces  of  our  Lord's  dying  experience  must  be  re- 
liected  in  tlie  dying  of  his  sjiints.  All  death  is  a  martyr- 
dom by  which  the  servants  of  Christ  testify  of  redemption. 
Death  is  the  last  earthly  oblation  of  the  sinless  spirit,  for 
there  is  no  grace  of  Christian  life  that  is  not  made  perfect 
in  death.  It  is  a  departure  to  be  with  Christ,  the  entering 
a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens,  and 
the  attainment  of  an  almost  consummate  state  in  the  gen- 
eral assembly  and  Church  of  the  first-born,  which  are  writ- 
ten in  heaven.  The  disembodied  spirits  follow  the  Lamb 
whithersoever  he  goeth,  and  all  who  die  in  the  Lord  are 
united  to  him  in  his  glorified  incarnate  nature,  and  his 
heavenly  body  is  their  home." 

The  world  hides  the  ghastly  depth  of  the  grave  by  the 
memories  of  tlie  past,  but  Christians  rather  by  the  bright 
hope  of  the  future.  The  pall  of  death  changes  into  a  man- 
tle of  light  under  the  eye  of  faith,  as  the  humble  garments 
of  our  Lord  became  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  holy  mount 
a  vesture  of  divine  glory.  So  do  our  minds  now  seek  to 
contemplate  our  dear  friend  in  his  present  state,  and  we 
turn  to  the  sacred  word  to  learn  what  is  the  experience  of 
our  humanity  after  death  as  rendered  in  the  experience  of 
our  Lord. 

He  who  was  the  fullness  of  the  Godhead  bodily  was  also 
the  fullness  of  ojir  manhood.  As  Adam  was  the  source  and 
body  of  our  nature,  of  its  freedom,  its  vitality  existent,  and 
of  all  i\&  human  possibilities,  so  Clirist  contained  the  sum 
of  all  the  quickening  power  which  belongs  to  the  sons  of 


Ascension  of  Our  Lord.  339 

God.  Wc  tlicrefi)re  invite  your  [irayerfiil  attention  to  a 
passage  which  describes  the  consummation  of  the  life  of  our 
Lord  upon  earth,  and  whicli  is  the  liighest  expression  of 
our  own  immortality:  "And  it  came  to  pass,  that  w^hile  he 
blessed  them,  he  was  parted  from  them,  and  carried  up  into 
heaven." 

It  was  the  expressed  wish  of  the  deceased,  as  announced 
on  yesterday  in  the  General  Conference,  that  he  might,  if 
it  pleased  the  Lord,  go  home  on  the  day  commemorative 
of  the  ascension.  It  was  bul  one  of  many  instances  in  which 
the  faith  of  the  dying  saint  discerns  the  body  of  his  Lord 
in  a  new  glory,  and  follows  it  in  its  upward  flight  until  it 
enters  the  celestial  city.  All  the  formulas  of  immortality 
upon  which  the  believer  habitually  dwells  find  in  this  ac- 
tion of  Christ  their  brightest  expression.  As  the  eye  dims 
in  death,  the  spiritual  apprehension  strengthens  to  a  more 
perfect  realization  of  the  invisible.  And  how  gracious  is 
our  God,  in  having  provided  for  the  death-chamber  a  scenic 
statement  of  life  and  immortality  in  the  radiant  glories  of 
the  transfiguration  and  in  the  serene  light  of  the  ascension  1 

In  pursuing  tliis  theme,  we  consider, 

I.  The  fact  of  the  ascension — that  He  was  "carried  up  into 
heaven." 

The  taking  a  human  body  up  into  heaven  would  imply 
that  some  greater  benefit  is  intended  for  man  than  can  be 
expressed  in  words. 

When  the  Son  of  God  came  into  the  world,  we  are  not 
surprised  that  he  should  have  assumed  a  body  for  the  pur- 


340  Dn.  Summers. 

pose  of  communicating  witli  men;  but  we  do  not  see  that 
any  such  necessity  existed  upon  liis  return  to  heaven. 

That  he  retains  the  human  form  and  body  indicates  new 
and  higher  purposes  of  use  for  it.  It  may  now  express  to 
us  the  nature  of  heaven  as  no  language  by  itself  could  pos- 
sibly do. 

A  body  that  ascends  or  descends  implies  a  place,  and  not 
simply  a  state,  as  would  mere  spirit.  Its  surroundings  must 
also  needs  be  substantial.  If  a  frame-work  of  bones  and 
flesh,  a  temple  of  spiritual  life,  can  ascend,  it  may  also  pass 
chalcedony  and  sapi)hire;  it  may  surpass  ranges  of  angelic 
being,  until  it  at  last  rests  among  the  "  things  which  are  at 
the  right-hand  of  God."  We  are  not  surprised  any  longer 
that  thrones  and  elders  and  harps  are  immediately  about 
the  Majesty  in  the  heavens,  nor  that  there  are  inlets  of  the 
river  of  life  visible,  fringed  with  trees  of  perpetual  bloom. 
All  that  has  been  written  by  inspired  pens  does  not  so  dis- 
tinctly render  to  our  minds  the  realities  of  that  land  afar 
off  as  does  the  body  of  our  ascended  Lord.  So  long  as  it 
was  merely  a  risen  body,  it  affected  earth ;  but  as  an  ascend- 
ed body,  it  affects  heaven.  It  gives  substance  to  it — char- 
acter and  expression.  It  is  that  much  of  earth — immortal 
earth — projected  into  heaven. 

That  which  has  been  thirty-three  years  in  earth,  whicli 
■wa8  "framed  in  the  lowest  parts  of  the  earth,"  must  needs 
have  an  earthly  quality.  And  the  mind  now  dwells  mi- 
nutely upon  this  manhood  of  our  Lord,  to  see  if  it  be  ours, 
if  "we  are  members  of  his  body,  of  liis  bone,  and  of  \m 


Ascension  of  Our  Lord.  341 

flesh."  For  by  just  that  much  does  his  presence  in  glory 
demonstrate  the  strength  of  our  hope.  His  God  is  our 
God,  his  Father  ours,  and  his  heaven  ours. 

It  was  his  risen  body  that  ascended;  yet  that  body  never 
at  any  time  appeared  glorious,  though  once  before  the  res- 
urrection he  was  transfigured  and  became  incandescent  with 
divine  light.  And  now  we  are  more  concerned  with  the 
sobriety  of  the  expression  than  with  the  splendor  of  the 
risen  body.  We  want  to  know  that  it  is  a  veritable  body ; 
after  that  we  are  easily  satisfied.  Like  Thomas,  we  wish  to 
touch  it  and  find  substance;  to  look  at  it,  to  examine  it, 
and  see  the  scars  of  its  hands  and  side.  And  this  we  are 
permitted  to  do;  to  "handle"  those  hands,  and  see  those 
prints  of  love  which  will  mark  them  forever.  "See,"  said 
the  Lord,  "that  I  have  bones,  and  am  not  merely  spirit; 
feel,  and  believe."  They  stood  around  him  examining  his 
body — the  last  touch  of  it  that  was  ever  to  be  made  by  hu- 
man hand.  "Now,"  said  he,  "see  me  eat;"  and  they  gave 
him  fish  and  a  piece  of  honey-c^b,  and  "he  ate  it  before 
them." 

The  various  phases  of  this  Form,  from  which  all  death  was 
now  eliminated,  show  new  powers  of  expression  and  singular 
freedom  from  all  the  usual  limitations  of  matter,  yet  retain 
all  the  while  a  firm  outline,  and  cannot  be  dissipated  into 
those  of  mere  spirit.  Under  the  will  of  the  Saviour,  it  took 
on  the  expression  of  a  gardener,  of  a  traveler,  of  the  Master 
among  the  nets  and  boats  of  Galilee,  of  a  Redeemer  just 
from  the  cross,  mighty  in  battle,  with   the  blows  of  the 


342  Be.  Summers. 


lictor  and  tlic  scars  of  the  Roman  execution  still  upon  him ; 
and  also  of  universal  Lordship  upon  the  mountain.  And 
it  was  never  more  a  body  than  when  by  appointment  he 
walked  out  from  Jerusalem  to  Olivet,  in  the  direction  of 
Bethany,  in  company  with  his  disciples,  with  the  purpose 
of  ascending  up  where  he  waa  before.  The  talk  by  the  way 
of  his  kingdom ;  the  exhortation  to  his  chosen  ones  to  reach 
out  for  universal  empire;  to  wait  for  theC  promise  of  the 
Father  which  he  would  send  upon  them  so  soon  as  he  had 
come  into  position ;  the  minuter  direction  to  start  abroad, 
beginning  at  Jerusalem  and  Samaria,  to  go  forth  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth — these  parting  counsels,  so  grandly  like 
himself,  prevented  their  attention  to  those  persons  whom 
they  met  coming  in  to  the  city;  or  to  the  dust  of  tliat  tvVt 
saara  which  was  presently  to  be  a  part  of  the  highway  by 
•which  men  go  to  heaven.  They  only  noticed  that  all  at 
once  he  was  moved  from  them  a  little  space  in  advance, 
and  seemed  a  little  higher,  and  that  lie  was  in  the  act  of 
I'lcssing  them.  Now,  slowly,  as  if  gravitation  had  barely 
turnwl  the  other  way,  he  moves  upward!  they  hear  his 
words,  they  see  his  face  and  his  hands;  there  is  not  a  flec>k 
of  mist  upon  the  air — he  only  seems  lighter  than  earth,  and 
by  his  own  will,  without  chariot  or  steed  or  angel,  he  goes 
up,  gaining  steadily  upon  the  clear  body  of  the  sky,  when 
presently  a  cloud,  before  unseen,  suddenly  intervenes  and 
shuts  him  out  from  their  sight!  They  sec  where  he  has 
disappeared,  and  still  gaze  intently  at  the  place,  when  a 
voice  calls  tJiom   back  to  cartli.     It  wn?  the  voice  of  two 


Ascension  of  Our  Lord.  343 

men  clothed  in  white  apparel:  "Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why 
stand  ye  gazing  up  into  heaven?  This  same  Jesus  which 
is  taken  up  from  you  into  heaven  shall  so  come  in  like 
manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into  heaven."  The  SjMrit 
fills  them  with  joy  unutterable,  the  wonder  of  his  ascent 
still  entrances  all  the  powers  of  their  being.  They  are  in 
the  temple  day  and  night  praising  God. 

It  was  this  last  act  that  gave  the  highest  dignity  to  the 
human  body,  and  included  all  its  other  powers  and  digni- 
ties. By  this  one  movement  it  reached  out  toward  all  the 
possessions  of  heaven,  as  if  made  for  purposes  there  rather 
than  here.  It  was  a  positive  assertion  of  life  which  was 
more  than  a  successful  resistance  of  death. 

After  the  resurrection  the  Saviour  remained  on  the 
earth  for  forty  days,  that  he  might  by  the  achievements  of 
his  body  convey  adequately  to  the  Church  that  which  could 
only  be  comprehended  after  the  event  of  his  death  and  res- 
urrection: the  true  conception  of  immortality;  the  sacred 
value  of  his  body  as  an  offering  for  the  sins  of  the  world; 
his  power  over  not  only  the  grave,  but  over  all  wickedness 
in  high  places — over  him  that  had  the  power  of  death; 
tije  true  idea  of  his  ubiquity,  and  of  his  providence  toward 
his  Church  to  the  end  of  the  world.  To  this  he  now  adds 
the  highest  expression  or  universal  Lordship  in  the  ascen- 
sion to  heaven  of  his  body.  By  this  act  he  places  the  body 
side  by  side  with  the  spirit,  in  the  last  statement  of  its 
quickened  powers;  and  by  it  consummates  all  those  proc- 
esses of  the  incarnatinn,  the  crucifixion,  and  the  resurrec- 


844  Dr.  Summers. 


tion  hy  which  his  Ixxly  has  been  shown  worthy  to  be  an 
eternal  factor  in  the  Divine  Subsistence. 

We  consider, 

II.  The  glory  of  his  ouxent. 

Along  with  the  identity,  the  incorruption,  the  spiritual 
nature,  and  the  powers  of  the  resurrection-body  of  our  Lord, 
there  seemed  to  be  one  other  quality  needed  to  cfjnstitute 
it  the  type  of  the  spiritual  body  with  which  we  are  all  to 
be  raised — that  of  glory.  Through  all  the  action  of  the 
days  between  his  coming  out  of  the  grave  and  his  going  up 
to  heaven  there  was  a  marked  absence  of  splendor.  The 
angel  of  the  resurrection  looked  like  lightning,  and  for  fear 
of  him  the  keepers  became  as  dead  men,  but  the  Lord  him- 
self looked  like  a  gardener.  There  is  everj'  thing  present 
we  could  ask  for  but  this  glory — his  grace,  his  teaching,  his 
voice,  but  nothing  of  the  glory  of  the  celestial  Being  that 
he  was.  And  this  sobriety  of  color  is  maintained  to  the 
very  last  instant,  when  he  was  about  to  ascend.  Indeed,  the 
splendor  which  belonged  to  this  hour  of  his  new  nativity 
seems  to  have  been  separated  from  it,  and  to  have  been 
moved  back,  as  was  the  sunlight  on  the  dial,  to  an  hour 
previous  to  the  crucifixion.  That  that  display  belonged  of 
right  to  the  resurrection  would  seem  to  be  indicated  in  the 
Master's  charge  to  his  three  disciples,  as  they  came  down 
the  mount,  that  they  were  not  to  speak  of  this  scene  of  in- 
effable radiance  until  the  Son  of  man  should  be  risen  again 
from  the  dead.  The  same  restraint  of  magnificence  is  car- 
ried bevond  the  instant  of  the  ascension,  and  continues  un- 


Ascension  of  Our  Lord.  345 

til  "a  cloud  received  him  out  of  their  sight."  That  cloud 
was  the  shroud  of  his  glory  to  men;  but  like  the  pillared 
cloud  which  was  his  martial  cloak  at  Israel's  head  for  forty 
years,  it  had  its  bright  side.  The  glory  of  his  ascent  could 
not  be  restrained  after  he  entered  fairly  upon  its  prophetic 
fulfillment.  Then  "  the  chariots  of  God  were  twenty  thou- 
sand, even  thousands  of  angels."  Tlie  Lord  was  among  this 
splendid  retinue,  as  in  Sinai,  in  the  holy  place.  He  ascends 
on  high,  he  leads  captivity  captive — "a  multitude  of  cap- 
tives " — he  "  receives  gifts  for  men."  In  this  august  pomp  he 
is  announced,  and  enters  the  holy  place  "the  Lord  of  hosts," 
"the  Lord,  mighty  in  battle,"  and  ascends  up  into  the 
"mountain  of  his  holiness."  The  might  and  glory  of  this 
exceeding  great  power  of  ascent  is  to  be  henceforth  the 
measure  of  all  power  to  usward  who  believe.  An  arc  of 
billowy  light  springing  from  the  sepulclier  and  resting  on 
the  throne  marks  the  flight  of  his  chariot — stretcliing  far 
away  in  the  sight  of  angels  beyond  the  portals  of  heaven, 
above  all  principality  and  power  and  might  and  domin- 
ion, and  every  name  that  is  named,  to  a  point  where  all 
things  are  under  his  feet. 

In  the  height  of  this  glory  is  a.  human  body.  The  Son 
of  man  appeai-s  in  heaven  as  the  Son  of  God  appeared  on 
earth.  The  incarnation  serves  its  sublime  purpose  there  no 
less  than  here.  The  distinctness  of  its  outline  conveys  to 
angels,  if  they  think  as  we  do,  a  yet  higher  conception  of 
the  Godhead,  for  they  now  see  its  fullness  in  the  glorified 
body  of  the  Son.     And  as  he  passes  into  the  several  ranges 


346  Dr.  Summers. 


of  angelic  life,  he  rejieats  the  wonder  of  his  incarnation; 
and  when  he  passes  out  of  that  into  a  yet  higher  order  of 
being,  he  repeats  the  glory  of  the  ascension,  and  so  moves 
from  glory  to  glory,  until  thrones  of  sapphire,  and  heights 
of  emerald,  and  seats  of  amethyst  have  been  left  behind  in 
his  ascent  up  to  the  plane  of  the  throne  of  the  Godheatl. 
St.  Paul,  in  his  letter  to  the  Ephesians,  gives  this  very 
movement  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  names  these  terraces  of 
angelic  and  seraphic  being  through  which  heonoved. 

We  may  not  sjjeculate  upon  the  wonders  of  expression 
there  were  in  the  body  of  Christ  to  tliose  vast  hosts  of  holy 
angels  which  saw  with  anxiety  the  original  departure  of  the 
Son  when  he  put  off  his  glory  to  enter  upon  the  work  of 
redemption.  But  their  desire  to  solve  this  vast  movement 
of  the  Godhead  never  abated  from  that  instant  imtil  his 
return.  They  sought,  as  the  holy  prophets  had  sought  be- 
fore them,  to  "look  into"  his  sufferings  and  into  the  glory 
which  should  follow.  They  now  saw  it  with  hushed  rapt- 
ure, as  when  the  disciples  looked  into  the  wound  in  liis  side 
and  examined  the  scar  on  his  hand.  The  perfect  sympathy 
of  God  with  his  creatures  could  no  longer  be  questioned. 
This  expression  of  his  love,  which  satisfied  God  himself  and 
satisfied  men,  now  sixtisfies  the  angels.  The  justice  which 
spared  not  an  only-begotten  Son,  when  he  took  the  place  of 
the  sinner,  could  no  longer  be  doubted  as  being  absolutely 
essential  to  the  maintenance  of  eternal  law.  And  when 
they  saw  the  redeemed,  who,  like  Mosos  and  Elias,  with 
onticipateil  glory  had  entered  the  confines  of  heaven,  the 


Ascension  of  Our  Lord.  347 

first-fruits  of  his  triumpli ;  when  they  heard  the  paeans  of 
those  noble  spirits  who  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  as 
they  rolled  through  the  spacious  music  of  the  new  song  of 
Moses  and  of  the  Lamb ;  and  when,  lo!  upon  the  sea  of  glass, 
in  the  midst  of  the  four  cherubim,  and  the  four  and  twenty 
elders,  and  the  seven  lamps  of  the  eternal  Spirit,  there 
stood  He,  as  he  had  erewhile  stood  in  Gabatha,  they  too 
burst  forth,  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  of  them,  with 
voices  and  harps,  in  symphony  with  the  redeemed:  "Wor- 
thy is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power  and  riches 
and  wisdom  and  strength  and  honor  and  glory  and  bless- 
ing." And  the  universe  swelled  the  chorus:  "Unto  Him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  forever 
and  ever." 

We  have  considered  (1)  the  accomplished  fact  of  the 
ascension,  (2)  the  glory  of  the  ascent;  now  we  notice, 

III.  The  end  of  it — in  the  ascended  form  of  the  Son  of 
man,  radiant  with  the  filll  glory  of  the  eternal  Son,  unveiled  ' 
to  heaven  and  earth,  enthroned,  the  divine-human  eternal 
Person,  Aljjha  and  Omega,  the  first  and  the  last,  which  is, 
and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come,  the  Almighty.  We 
can  conceive  of  no  higher  place  in  the  universe  than  this 
where  culminates  the  exaltation  of  our  Lord.  But  in  what 
section  of  liis  ascent  this  splendor  of  person  burst  forth 
from  the  King  of  glory  we  may  not  exactly  determine. 
Tliat  part  from  the  cloud  to  the  entrance  of  the  gates  is 
revealed  by  David  as  one  of  vast  movement,  involving 
thousands  of  angel?  and  of  "released  captives."     The  hv.v.]^ 


S48  Dr.  Summers. 


of  these  columns  must  have  been  on  this  part  of  the  line 
of  his  ascent,  and  fell  in  with  careering  pomp  as  of  war- 
chariots  in  the  royal  progress.  At  the  front  of  this  retinue 
the  King  himself,  as  the  Lord  of  hosts,  approaches  the 
celestial  gates,  which,  after  summons  and  challenge,  are 
lifted  for  the  sublime  entrance  of  the  King  of  kings  and 
Lord  of  lords.  Beyond  this  section  is  that  part  which 
transpires  after  passing  through  the  gates  into  the  city. 
This  is  revealed  to  us  by  St.  Paul.  He  that  ascended  at 
first  descendetl  to  the  lowest  place  of  the  earth,  and  by  so 
much  he  now  ascends  up  far  higher  than  to  the  mere 
heaven — "far  above  all  heavens."  The  Father  of  glory 
raises  him  to  his  own  right-hand  up  to  the  very  head  of  all 
principality  and  jxjwcr,  and  far  above  all. 

It  is  only  by  the  Revelation  of  St.  John  that  we  at  last 
eee  the  Son  clad  in  the  habiliments  of  Godhead — "who 
coverest  thyself  with  light  as  with  a  garment."  But  this 
is  at  the  end  of  his  ascension.  The  Church  waits  for  the 
sight  which  Thomas  longed  to  see,  the  visible  display  of 
his  person  radiant  with  the  divine  luster  of  the  Son,  the 
glory  which  Moses  saw,  and  that  which  the  disciples  saw 
when  they  were  " eye-witnesses  of  his  Majesty"  in  the  holy 
mount.  And  it  is  only  when  this  honor  and  glory  again 
rest  upon  him  as  the  "l)eloved  Son"  that  the  Church  fully 
realizes  that  lie  is  "  the  Lord  of  glory." 

This  reserve  of  splendor  in  the  ascension  holds  the  mind 
in  expectation,  and  throws  it  forwanl  to  the  heavenly  places 
where  it  gathers  such  an  ideal  of  the  Son  of  God  as  it  is 


Ascension  of  Our  Lord.  349 

willing  to  rest  in  and  continually  reckon  from.  It  was  on 
the  Lord's-day  in  dreary  Patnios,  when  a  great  voice  start- 
ling as  a  trumpet,  calling  from  behind,  said,  "I  am  Alpha 
and  Omega."  The  apostle  instantly  turned  about  and  saw 
the  vision  of  the  mount  of  transfiguration  repeated.  The 
Son  of  man  was  in  an  abyss  of  light,  his  head  and  hair 
white  as  wool,  liis  face  shining  as  the  sun,  his  eyes  as  flames, 
his  feet  as  brass  in  the  glow  of  a  furnace.  About  him  were 
golden  candlesticks.  When  John  saw  him  he  fell  as  one 
dead,  and  heard  the  voice  as  before  saying:  "Fear  not,  I 
am  he  that  liveth  and  was  dead.  What  thou  seest  and 
hearest  send  to  the  Churches."  Here  Christ  is  in  all  the 
majesty  of  the  Sonship.  This  vision  is  followed  by  one  in 
which  the  throne  of  the  Father  is  set — amid  lightnings, 
thunderings,  and  voices ;  amid  cherubim,  elders,  and  angels. 
And  from  him  the  Lamb  receives,  amid  universal  acclaim 
of  ten  thousands  of  thousands,  the  book  of  the  inheritance 
of  the  Church,  the  covenants  of  God,  as  the  one  represent- 
ative of  his  race — the  Root  of  David,  the  Lion  of  Judah. 

Into  this  height  it  is  not  the  body  of  man  merely  that 
lias  received  such  ineffable  majesty,  but  our  manhood  itself. 
The  race  could  not  have  been  used  for  such  lofty  expression 
to  the  universe  of  intelligences  without  deriving  therefrom 
the  very  highest  benefit  of  divine  favor.  When  humanity 
was  taken  up  into  the  very  expression  of  the  Trinity,  there 
must  needs  be  an  eternal  good  derived  to  it  coramensurately 
with  this  divine-human  expression. 

And  far  backward  now  does  this  splendor  of  the  end  of 


350  Db.  Summers. 


the  ascension  throw  its  beams.  Away  back  to  the  'iret 
ganlen  and  the  first  annonnocmcnt  of  the  Saviour;  and  aft- 
erward its  star  canopies  the  spot  where  the  Babe  lay ;  then 
in  the  niglit-shadows  of  Gethsemane  its  rays  flash  thnnigli 
those  scarlet  drops  as  they  fall  from  the  agony  of  the  Divine 
Victim ;  it  lights  np  the  chamber  at  the  head  and  at  the 
foot  where  Joseph  of  Arimathca  honorably  laid  to  rest  the 
body  of  his  crucified  Lord;  it  flashed  upon  the  dew-covered 
flowers  at  the  mouth  of  the  sepulcher  on  the  early  morn 
when  the  Son  of  man  canie  forth  from  it.  It  is  this  bear- 
ing of  the  Eternal  Person  of  the  Son,  unveiled,  upon  "  the 
Word  made  flesh  which  dwelt  among  us,"  that  fills  at  once 
the  heart,  the  intellect,  and  the  imagination  of  every  child 
of  God  with  adoring  gratitude,  and  an  all-satisfying  percep- 
tion of  the  invisible  Saviour.  He  it  is  that  now  pours  out 
from  his  glorified  presence  the  holy  Comforter,  as  the  ad- 
ministrator of  his  own  kingdom  of  power  and  of  love,  ujxjn 
the  world  and  upon  the  Church  which  he  has  bought  with 
his  own  blood.  Whether  we  look  backward  or  forward 
from  those  heights  where  he  now  sits,  the  splendor  of  his 
glorified  Form  reveals  to  us  the  riches  of  the  glory  of  his 
love  in  the  width  of  the  inheritance  which  he  has  secured 
for  us.  Every  resting-place  of  the  ascent  above  he  has 
taken  possession  of  for  us  by  the  bare  presence  of  his  hu- 
man form.  He  received  at  every  altitude  and  ledge  of  su- 
pernal habitation  gifts  "for  men,"  and  in  turn  makes  them 
possible  "to  men."  From  the  highest  place  of  Godhead 
he  sends  down  a  nobility  upon  earth  which  shall  answer  to 


Ascension  of  Our  Lord.  351 

tlie  hierarchies  of  heaven:  the  spiritual  gifts  which  find 
their  limitations  in  tlie  creation  of  apostles,  prophets,  mar- 
tyrs, evangelists,  and  pastors — the  aristocracy  wliiclx  by  and 
by  are  to  be  the  habitation  of  God  througli  the  Spirit.  It 
is  at  this  height  of  divine  realities  that  the  Son  will  pre- 
pare for  his  people  bodies  like  to  his  own,  as  were  those  of 
Moses  and  of  Elijah.  Here,  as  the  Architect  of  the  heaven 
of  the  redeemed,  he  jsrepares  our  "mansions"  for  us,  and 
the  "tabernacles"  which  Peter  called  'for  will  at  last  be 
raised  in  all  their  Messianic  beauty. 

There  is  yet  another  reach  which  the  Son  of  man  gives 
to  our  conception  of  the  divine  love  and  mercy.  The  fed- 
eral Head  of  our  race  is  seated  upon  a  tlirone  of  glory. 
From  that  throne  he  breathes  his  loving  care  for  all  the 
Churches.  The  cold,  the  zealous,  the  patient,  the  pure,  the 
noble — all  he  tries  to  arm  with  his  own  mind.  He  braces 
them  in  that  first  hour  of  tlie  Church's  trial  with  promise 
of  crowns  and  palms  and  thrones  and  most  secret  fellowship 
with  the  Father  and  with  his  Son:  "I  have  somewhat 
against  tliee  because  thou  hast  left  thy  first  love."  O  bless- 
ed Saviour,  dost  thou  remember  thy  weak  children  in  the 
midst  of  the  throne?  Is  the  love  of  one — is  my  love  any 
thing  now  to  thee?  Tliank  God!  he  is  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  forever,  whether  in  the  gloomy  passes  of  deatli 
or  in  the  heights  of  life!  In  his  humiliation  he  loved  me, 
in  his  exaltation  he  still  loves  me. 

It  was  on  this  sublime  pathway  upon  which  our  Saviour 
went  that  the  spirit  of  our  dear  Summei-s  went.    "We  are 


352  Dr.  Summers. 


quickenetl  together  with  Christ,  raised  together  with  him, 
and  seated  together  with  him  in  the  heavenly  places."  By 
some  mysterious  tie  our  spirits  move  in  parallel  lines  with 
his  body.  His  is  a  spiritual  body ;  and  along  the  same  aisles 
we  move,  through  the  silent  chamber,  or  penetrating  the 
hard  rock,  or  engineering  the  vast  spaces  outlying;  his  road 
emerges  on  the  other  side  of  the  dark  mountain  and  hangs 
over  the  broad  river  of  life,  and  so  does  ours.  He  lives, 
and  we  shall  live  also.  Our  names  are  written  in  a  book 
sprinkled  with  his  blood.  The  goodly  company  who  have 
been  redeemed  will  be  with  him,  and  close  pursue  the 
Lamb  in  all  those  years  which  shall  intervene  between  the 
hour  when  we  part  here  and  the  one  when  we  shall  meet 
there.     Blessed  be  his  name  forever  and  forever!    Amen. 


[The  short  sketch  of  Dr.  Bummeca  which  appeared  in  print  on 
the  dny  of  his  funeral,  and  the  tribute  paid  by  the  writer  on  the  day 
previous  in  the  General  Conference-room,  are  not  reproduced  here, 
as  being  quite  superfluous  in  a  book  devoted  exclusively  to  the 
delineation  of  the  life  and  character  of  the  deceased— one  written, 
as  it  is,  by  n  loving  and  competent  hand.] 


The  End. 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

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